mewhat of its liveliness of flavour.

They were alone one evening, rather past the middle of the
winter. It was not one of Miss Kennedy's at-home nights; and
in a snug little drawing-room the two were seated on opposite
sides of the tea service. A fire of soft coal burning
luxuriously; thick curtains drawn; warm-coloured paperhangings
on the walls; silver bright in the gaslight, and Mr. Falkirk's
evening papers ready at his hand. To-night Mr. Falkirk rather
neglected them, and seemed to be in a meditative mood.

'Whereabouts are we in pursuit of our fortune, Miss Hazel?' he
asked as he tasted his cup of hot tea.

'Rather deep down in Schiller and Dante, Sir.'

'_Il Paradiso?_' asked Mr. Falkirk meaningly.

'Pray do you call that "deep down"?' demanded Miss Hazel.

'I am merely inquiring where you are, my dear. I have heard of
people's being over head and ears.'

'Only hearsay evidence, sir?' said Miss Hazel recklessly. But
then she was not going to stand up and be shot at!

'I should like to know, merely as a satisfaction to my own
mind, whether the quest is ended, Miss Hazel? Has Cinderella's
glass slipper been fitted on? or has Quickear seized the
singing bird and the golden water?'

'Princes are scarce!' said the girl derisively, but not
without a rising blush.

'The true one not found yet, my dear?' said Mr. Falkirk with
an amused glance across the table. 'What is to be our next
move in search of him?'

'That is one way of putting it,' said Wych Hazel. 'I should
think, sir, you had taken lessons of your devotee, Miss
Fisher.'

'I am glad _you_ don't,' said Mr. Falkirk earnestly. 'Miss
Hazel, I should prefer that when _such_ princesses are in the
parlour, Cinderella should keep to her kitchen. It is the
court end in such a case.'

Kitty Fisher's name brought up visions. Hazel was silent.

'Do you ever hear from Chickaree?' her guardian asked
presently.

'No one to write, sir, but Mrs. Bywank,--and she, you know, is
not a scribe. I understand that the kitten is well.'

'That is important,' said Mr. Falkirk. 'She hasn't told you
lately anything about your friend Rollo?'

'No, sir. Have you given up your share in his friendship?'
inquired Miss Hazel.

Mr. Falkirk made no answer to this query, and seemed to have
forgotten it presently in his musings. Hazel glanced at him
furtively, choosing her form of attack; for Mr. Falkirk's
manner seemed to say that he _had_ heard.

'You always played int