certainly as if it had belonged
to a little girl not very long ago; but he said no more,
except to advise the young lady to eat a good breakfast.

Not to be conspicuous, however, from this day was beyond
little Miss Hazel's power, to whatever degree it might have
been within her wish. The house was at this time not yet
filled; but of all its indwellers, old and young, male and
female, higher and lower in the scale of society, every eye
and tongue was at her service; so far as being occupied with
her made it so. Every hand was at her service more literally.
Did not the very serving-men at table watch her eye? Was not
he the best fellow who could recommend the hottest omelet and
bring the freshest cakes to her hand? The young heiress, the
young mistress of fabulous acres, and 'such a beautiful old
place;' the new beauty, who bid fair to bewitch all the world
with hand and foot and gypsy eyes,--nay, the current all set
one way. Even old dowagers looked to praise, and even their
daughters to admire; while of the men, all were at her feet.
Attentions, civil, kind, and recommendatory, showered on Miss
Hazel from all sides. Would that little head stand it, with
its wayward curls and some slight indication of waywardness
within? How would it keep its position over such a crowd of
servants self-made in her honour? Some of them were very
devoted servants indeed, and seemed willing to proclaim their
devotion. Among these was Mr. Kingsland, who constituted
himself her right-hand man in general; but Dr. Maryland was
not far off, if less presuming. Miss Hazel could not walk or
ride or come into a room without some sort of homage from one
or all of these.

'Dear little thing! pretty little thing!' exclaimed a lady, an
old acquaintance of Mr. Falkirk's, one evening. 'Charming
little creature! How will she bear it?'

Mr. Falkirk was standing near by.

'She wants a better guardian,' the lady went on whispering.

'I wish she had a mother,' he said.

'Or a husband!'

Mr. Falkirk was silent; then he said, 'It is too soon for
that.'

'Yes--too soon,' said the lady meditatively as she looked at
Wych Hazel's curls,--'but what will she do? Somebody will
deceive her into thinking he is the right man, while it is _too_
soon.'

'Nobody shall deceive her,' said Mr. Falkirk between his
teeth.

It must be mentioned that an exception, in some sort, to all
this adulation, was furnished by the friend of Miss Hazel's
morning walk. Mr.