‘Yes, sir.  We don’t dine upon the bridge, I presume?’

Mr. Falkirk went off, making sure that the door latched behind him.  In a quarter of an hour he came back, with an attendant bearing a tray.

’At present fortune gives us nothing more remarkable than fried ham,’ he said,—­’and that not of the most eatable, I fear.  She is a jade.  But we’ll get away to-morrow.  I hope so.’

‘My dear sir,’ said Wych Hazel with a radiant face, ’we will get away to-night.  I find that the bridge is not on our road, after all.  So I said it was not worth while to get a room ready for me,—­and the baggage might be just transferred.’

‘To what?’

’To the other stage, sir.  Or indeed I believe it is some sort of a baggage wagon—­as the roads are heavy—­not to speak of the passengers.  It has gone on up the mountain.’

‘What has?’ exclaimed Mr. Falkirk, whose face was a study.

‘The wagon,’ said Miss Hazel, seating herself by the table.  ‘More particularly, your one trunk and my six, sir.’

‘Where has it gone?’

’Up the mountain, sir.  They were afraid of making the stage top heavy—­the weight of intellect inside being small.’

‘Do you mean, to Catskill?’

’Yes, sir.  Poor little puss!—­Does the vegetation hereabouts support nothing but pigs?’ said Miss Hazel, with a despairing glance from the dish of ham to a yellow haired lassie in a blue gown, who just then brought in a pitcher of water.  Mr. Falkirk waited till the damsel had withdrawn, and went to the window and came back again before he spoke.

’You should have consulted me, Miss Hazel.  You are bewildered.  It is not a good time to go up the mountain now.’

‘Bewildered?  I!’ was Miss Hazel’s only answer.

’Yes, you don’t know what is good for you.  I shall send for those trunks, Wych.’

’Quite useless, sir.  There is nothing else going up to the Mountain House till we go ourselves.  We will go for them—­there is nothing like doing your own business.’

‘You will find that out one day,’ muttered her guardian.

‘Seeking my fortune, and wait for the mending of a bridge!’ Hazel went on.  ’And then I said I was going to Catskill,—­and then you’re the best guardian in the world, Mr. Falkirk, so it’s no use looking as if you were somebody else.’

‘I shall be somebody else directly,’ said Mr. Falkirk in a cynical manner.  ’But eat your dinner, Miss Hazel; you will not have much time.’

A meal for which he did not seem to care himself, for there was no perceivable time when he took it.