le the tea-things were cleared away, and afterwards
pored over the newspaper and did not read it. At last, when
silence had reigned some time, he lifted his head up and
turned round to where Wych Hazel sat.

'I have been considering a difficulty, Miss Hazel; will you
help me out?'

'Gladly, sir, if I can.' She had been sitting in musing
idleness, going over the day perhaps, for now and then her
lips curled and parted, with various expressions.

'We have come, you are aware, Miss Hazel, in the course of our
progress, to the Enchanted Region;--where things are not what
they seem; jewels lie hid in the soil for the finding, and
treasures are at the top of the hill; but the conditions of
success may be the stopping of the ears, you know; and lovely
ladies by the way may turn out to be deadly enchantresses.
How, in this time of dangers and possibilities, can my wisdom
avail for your inexperience? that is my question. Can you tell
me?'

'Truly sir,' she answered with laugh, 'to get yourself out of
a difficulty, you get me in! My inexperience is totally in the
dark as to what your wisdom means.'

'Precisely,' said Mr. Falkirk; 'so how shall we do? How shall
I take care of you?'

'You have always known how, sir,' she answered with a grateful
flash of her brown eyes.

'When I had only a little Wych Hazel to take care of, and the
care depended on myself,' Mr. Falkirk said, with just an
indication of a sigh stifled somewhere. 'Now I can't get along
without your cooeperation, my dear.'

'Am I so much harder to manage than of old, sir? That speaks
ill for me.'

'My dear, I believe I remarked that we are upon Enchanted
ground. It does not speak ill for you, that you may not know a
bewitched pumpkin from a good honest piece of carriage maker's
work.'

'No, sir. Is it the pumpkin variety for which Mr. Rollo is to
find mice?'

'I have taken care of your affairs at least,' said Mr. Falkirk
gravely. 'There is nothing about _them_ that is not sound. I
wish other people did not know it so well!' he muttered.

'It is only poor little me,' said Wych Hazel. 'Never mind,
sir,--in fairy tales one always comes out somehow. But I am
sure I ought to be "sound" too, if care would do it.'

'Will you help me, Hazel?' said Mr. Falkirk, bending towards
her and speaking her name as in the old childish days.

'Gladly, sir,--if you will shew me how. And if it is not too
hard,' she said with a pretty look, well answering to her
words