o each other's hands so delightfully,
sir,' she began, with a very _degage_ air,--'it is of course
natural that he should keep you posted as to his own important
proceedings. And a little ungrateful in you, Mr. Falkirk, I
must say, to fling him off in this fashion.'

'I've nothing on my conscience respecting him,' said Mr.
Falkirk, eating his toast with a contented air. 'I'm not _his_
guardian, nor ever was.'

'What a pity!' said Wych Hazel. 'Both of us together might
have made your life more lively than my unassisted efforts
could do.'

Mr. Falkirk grunted, and went on with his tea; and sent his
cup to be refilled.

Hazel pondered.

'You seem depressed, Mr. Falkirk,' she said. 'Shall I give you
an additional lump of sugar?'

Now Mr. Falkirk in truth seemed anything but depressed; and he
raised his head to look at his questioner.

'I am quite satisfied with things as they are, Miss Hazel.'

'Are you, sir? I am delighted!' said Hazel. 'But I never even
supposed such a thing possible. How are "things"--if I may be
allowed to inquire?'

Some things are new,' returned her guardian. 'And I should not
be satisfied with them, if they concerned me. Which I take for
granted they do not. I saw Dr. Arthur down town to-day; and he
told me some odd news about Rollo.' Mr. Falkirk was finishing
his tea in a leisurely way, evidently _not_ thinking that the
news, whatever it was, concerned either of them seriously.

'Why did you not bring Dr. Arthur home to tea?' inquired his
ward.

'I did not think of it, Miss Hazel. But he volunteered a visit
in the course of the evening.'

'That will be delightful,--I like Dr. Arthur,' said Hazel,
feeling that somehow or other she must get a glimpse of his
news before he came.

'Well, if what he said gave you so much pleasure, why don't
you repeat it to me, Mr. Falkirk,' she ventured.

'I do not remember that I said anything gave me pleasure,'
returned her guardian. 'This don't. By what he says, Rollo has
lost his wits. I thought him a shrewd man of business; and he
was that, when your affairs were in his hand last summer; but
if what Dr. Arthur tells me is true, and it must be, he has
done a very strange thing with his own fortune.'

'Dear me! I hope he did not hurt himself looking after mine!'
said Wych Hazel innocently. 'Are fortune and wits both in
peril, Mr. Falkirk?'

'Not yours, I hope,' said her guardian. 'I should be very
uneasy if I thought that. _I_ should have no