Wych Hazel | Page 6

to listen.
'I did not say I was going there,' said her guardian dryly.
'Two and two make four, my good sir. There's not even a sign of a place of entertainment between Stone Bridge and Crocus, and Stone Bridge you have confessed to.'
'You consider places of entertainment among the essentials then?'
'Why, in some cases,' said the gentleman, with a suspicious glance at Wych Hazel's brown veil.
'How long is it since you were there, Mr. Falkirk?' inquired Mr. Kingsland's next neighbour.
The speaker was a younger man than Mr. Kingsland, and whereas that gentleman was a dandy, this one's dress was just one remove from that, and therefore faultless. About his face, so far off as the other end of the stage, there seemed nothing remarkable; it was grave, rather concise in its indications; but the voice prepared you for what a smile declared,--a nature joyous and unembittered; a spirit pure and honest and keen. Even Wych Hazel's guardian softened at his look.
'Pray, Mr. Falkirk?' said the other stranger, 'what is supposed to be the origin of the word "veil"?'
'I never heard,' said Mr. Falkirk dryly. 'Lost in the early records of civilization.'
'My dear sir!--of Barbarism!'
'Civilization has never entirely got rid of barbarism, I believe,' said Mr. Falkirk between his teeth; then out, 'By what road are you going, Rollo?'
'I should be happy to act as guide, sir. I leave the direct route.'
'Mr. Falkirk,' said Wych Hazel, 'just put your head a little this way, and see the veil of mist thrown over the top of that hill.'
Mr. Falkirk looked hastily, and resumed: 'You have lately returned, I hear, from your long foreign stay?'
'It was time.'
'Mr. Falkirk,' said his ward, 'do you consider that a remnant of the dark ages?'
'It keeps its place too gracefully for that,' said her guardian dropping his voice, as he looked across Wych Hazel out of the coach window.
'Mr. Falkirk' (sotto voce), 'you are charming!--Between ourselves, this is a hard place to keep gracefully. Please take out your watch, sir.'
Which Mr. Falkirk did, and silently showed it. Forth to meet his came a little gold hunting watch from behind the brown veil.
'You are a minute slow, sir--as usual.' Then very softly,--'Mr. Falkirk, what with being pressed and repressed, I am dying by quarter inches! Just introduce me for your grandmother, will you, and I will matronize the party.'
A request Mr. Falkirk complied with by entering forthwith into a long business discussion with another occupant of the stage coach, also known to him; in which stocks, commercial regulations, political enterprises, and the relative bearings of the same, precluded all reference to anything else whatever. Nobody's grandmother could have had less (visible) attention than Miss Hazel, up to the time when the coach rolled up to the door of a wayside inn, and the party got out to a luncheon or early dinner, as some of them would have called it. Then indeed she had enough. Mr. Falkirk handed her out and handed her in; straight to the gay carpeted "Ladies' room;" shut the door carefully, and asked her what she would have. No other lady was there to dispute possession.
'Only a broiled chicken, sir--and a soufflé--and potatoes à la crême au gratin,' said Miss Hazel, throwing off her bonnet and curling herself down on the arm of the sofa. 'Mr. Falkirk, all my previous acquaintance with cushions was superficial!--And could you just open the window, sir, and throw back the blinds? last November is in this room, apples and all.'
Mr. Falkirk obeyed directions, remarking that people who travel in search of their fortune must expect to meet with November in unexpected places; and then went off into the general eating-room, and by and by, from there or some other insalubrious region came a servant, with half of an imperfectly broiled fowl and muddy dish of coffee, flanked by a watery pickled cucumbers. Mr. Falkirk himself presently returned.
'How does it go?' he said.
'What, Mr. Falkirk?' the young lady was curled down in one corner of the sofa, much like a kitten; a small specimen of which animal purred complacently on her shoulder.
'Could you eat, Miss Hazel?'
'Truly, sir, I could. Mr. Falkirk--what a lovely kitten! Do you remark her length of tail?'
Mr. Falkirk thought he had heard of "puss in boots" before, but never had the full realization thereof till now.
'You have tasted nothing,' he said. 'What shall I get you? We shall be off in a few minutes, and you will not have another chance till we reach Hadyn's Dam.'
'Thank you, sir. A few minutes of undisturbed repose--with the removal of those cucumbers--and the restoration of that chicken to its other and I hope better half, is all that I require.'
'You will have rest at Hadyn's Dam,' said Mr. Falkirk with a face more expressive than his words.--'The bridge there