f everything on
the tray, Mr. Falkirk at once went off and left her to dispose
of it all alone. And of course he went straight into the next
room. Didn't she know he would?--and didn't she hear the duo
that greeted him?--'What, Mr. Falkirk!'--'Sir, your most
obedient!'--and her guardian's double reply--'Back again, eh?'--
and 'Your most obedient, Mr. Kingsland.' Wych Hazel felt
provoked enough not to eat another mouthful. Then up came the
stage, rumbling along to the front door; and as it came, in
rushed Mr. Falkirk, poured out a cup of scalding coffee and
swallowed it without a moment's hesitation.

'Coach, sir!' said the waiter opening the door.

'Coach, my dear?' repeated her guardian, taking her arm and
whisking her down the hall and into the stage, before the
passengers in the long room could have laid down their knives.

'What is the use of being in such a hurry, Mr. Falkirk?' she
said at last; much tried at being tossed gently into the stage
like a brown parcel--(which to be sure she was, but that made
no difference).

'My dear,' said Mr. Falkirk, solemnly, "there is a tide in the
affairs of men, which taken at the flood, leads on to
fortune.' "

And with that he drew off his glove, leaned back, and passed
his hand over his brow with the air of a man who had in some
shape achieved success.

By this time the stream of passengers began to pour forth; and
the coach creaked and swung to and fro, as trunk after trunk
and man after man found their way up to the roof. Then the
door was flung open, and other passengers tumbled in, the
lantern flashing dimly upon their faces and coats. Three and
three more,--and another, but his progress was stayed.

'Not in here, sir,' said Mr. Falkirk politely, 'I have paid
for three seats.'

'There ain't another seat,' says the driver,--'and he ain't a
big man, sir--guess maybe you'll let him have a corner--we'll
make it all right, sir.' He had a corner,--and so did our
heroine! The new dress! Never mind; the sooner this went the
sooner she would get another. And they rolled off, sweetly and
silently, upon the country road. The morning was lovely. Light
scarfs of fog floated about the mountain tops, light veils of
cloud just mystified the sky; the tree-tops glittered with
dew, the birds flew in and out; and through an open corner of
her leathern curtain Wych Hazel peered out, gazing at the new
world wherein she was going to seek her fortune.

'Spend the Summer at Chicka