‘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 into 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.