Wych Hazel | Page 2

his hands, Mr. Falkirk's sensations
were those of the man out West, who wanted to move off whenever
another man came within twenty miles of him.
Thus, in the forlorn hope of a retreat which yet he knew must prove
useless, Mr. Falkirk let the first March winds blow him out of town;
and at this present time was snugly hid away in a remote village which
nobody ever heard of, and where nobody ever came.
So far so good: Mr. Falkirk rested and took breath. Nevertheless the
spring came, even there; and following close in her train, the

irrepressible conflict. Whoever succeeded in running away from his
duties--or his difficulties? There was a flutter of young life within
doors as without, and Mr. Falkirk knew it: there were a hundred rills of
music, a thousand nameless flowers to which he could not close his
senses. There was a soft, indefinable stir and sweetness, that told of the
breaking of Winter bonds and the coming of Summer glories; and he
could not stay the progress of things in the one case more than in the
other.
Mr. Falkirk had always taken care of this girl--the few years before his
guardianship were too dim to look back to much. From the day when
she, a suddenly orphaned child, stood frightened and alone among
strangers, and he came in and took her on his knee, and bade her "be a
woman, and be brave." That was his ideal of womanhood,--to that
combination of strength and weakness he had tried to bring Wych
Hazel.
Yet though she had grown up in Mr. Falkirk's company, she never
thoroughly understood him: nature and circumstances had made him a
reserved man,--and her eyes were young. Of a piece with his reserve
was the peculiar fence of separation which he built up between all his
own concerns and those of his ward. He was poor--she had a more than
ample fortune; yet no persuading would make him live with her. Had
he been rich, perhaps she might have lived with him; but as it was,
unless when lodgings were the rule, they lived in separate houses; only
his was always close at hand. Even when his ward was a little child,
living at Chickaree with her nurses and housekeeper, Mr. Falkirk never
spent a night in the house. He formally bought and paid for a tiny
cottage on the premises, and there he lived: nothing done without his
knowledge, nothing undone without his notice. Not a creature came or
went unperceived by Mr. Falkirk. And yet this supervision was
generally pleasant. As he wrought, nothing had the air of
espionage--merely of care; and so I think, Wych Hazel liked it, and felt
all the more free for all sorts of undertakings, secured against
consequences. Sometimes, indeed, his quick insight was so astonishing
to the young mischief-maker, that she was ready to cry out
treachery!--and the suspected person in this case was always Gotham.

Yet when she charged upon Gotham some untimely frost which had
nipped her budding plans, Gotham always replied--
'No, Miss 'Azel. I trust my 'onor is sufficient in his respect.'
She and Gotham had a singular sort of league,--defensive of Mr.
Falkirk, offensive towards each other. She teased him, and Gotham
bore it mastiff-wise; shaking his head, and wincing, and when he could
bear it no longer going off. Wych Hazel?-- yes, she was that.
And how did she win her name? Well, in the first place, "the
nut-browne mayd" and she were near of kin. But whether her parents,
as they looked into the baby's clear dark eyes, saw there anything weird
or elfish,--or whether the name 'grew,'--of that there remains no record.
She had been a pretty quiet witch hitherto; but now--
"Once git a scent o' musk into a drawer, And it clings hold, like
precerdents in law!"
--not Mr. Falkirk could get it out.
CHAPTER II.
BEGINNING A FAIRY TALE.
'Mr. Falkirk, I must go and seek my fortune!'
Wych Hazel made this little remark, sitting on a low seat by the fire,
her arms crossed over her lap.
'Wherefore?' said her guardian.
'Because I want to, sir. I have no other than a woman's reason.'
'The most potent of reasons!' said Mr. Falkirk. 'The rather, because
while professing to have no root, it hath yet a dozen. How long ago did
Jack show his lantern, my dear?'
'Lantern!' said the girl, rather piqued,--adding, under her breath, 'I'm

going to follow--Jack or no Jack! Why, Mr. Falkirk, I never got
interested a bit in a fairy tale, till I came to--"And so they set out to
seek their fortune." It's my belief that I belong in a fairy tale
somewhere.'
'Like enough,' said her guardian shortly.
'So you see it all fits,' said