he
most difficult, and so on--ad infinitum.'

'Perfectly simple, indeed,' said Mr. Falkirk. 'Yet it might
lead to a complication. I'm afraid it would prove a Western
line of travel, my dear--end in a squirrel track, and run up a
tree.'

'What a lookout we shall have!' said Wych Hazel. 'But about
the dress, Mr. Falkirk--you know my last one is quite new--and I
do so want another!'

'Then get it,' he said with a smile. 'Though I am afraid, my
dear, it is hardly in keeping. Quickear began the search in
rags, and Cincerella in ashes, and the "Fair one with the
golden locks" had, I think, no other adornment. Puss in boots
was indeed new rigged--but Puss was only a deputy. What do you
say to sending me forth in boots, to seek a fortune for you?'

An irrepressible laugh rippled forth--sweet and sound, and, oh,
so heartwhole!

'Let me see,' she said; 'To-day is Monday. To-morrow I will
get the dress and distract my dressmaker. And next Monday we
will set out, and take Chickaree for our first stage. My dear
Mr. Falkirk--most potent, grave, and reverend sir,--if you sally
forth as Puss in boots, of course I shall at once turn into
the Marquis of Carrabas, which would not suit your notions at
all--confess!' she added, locking both hands round his arm, and
flashing the brilliants before his eyes.

'Next Monday we will take the first stage for Chickaree,' said
Mr. Falkirk in an unmoved manner. 'How many servants in your
train, Miss Hazel?'

'None, sir. Mrs. Bywank is there already, and Mrs. Saddler can
"forward" me "with care." I'll pick up a new maid by the way.'

'Will you pick up a page too? or does Dingee keep his place?'

'If he can be said to have one. O, Dingee, of course.'

'Wych Hazel,' said Mr. Falkirk from under his brows, 'what is
your plan?--if you are capable of such a thing.'

'My plan is to unfold my capabilities, sir,--for your express
benefit, Mr. Falkirk. We will beat the bush in every
direction, and run down any game that offers.'

Mr. Falkirk turned his chair half away, and looked into the
fire. Then slowly, but with every effect of expression, he
repeated,--

'A creature bounced from the bush,
Which made them all to laugh,
"My lord," he cried, "A hare! a hare!"
But it proved an Essex calf.'

'Yes,' said Wych Hazel with excellent coolness,--'men do make
such little mistakes, occasionally. But this time I shall be
along. Good night, sir.'

CHAPTER III.

CORNER OF A STAGE COACH