'My dear,' said Mr. Falkirk, solemnly, "there is a tide in the affairs of men, which taken at the flood, leads on to fortune.' "
And with that he drew off his glove, leaned back, and passed his hand over his brow with the air of a man who had in some shape achieved success.
By this time the stream of passengers began to pour forth; and the coach creaked and swung to and fro, as trunk after trunk and man after man found their way up to the roof. Then the door was flung open, and other passengers tumbled in, the lantern flashing dimly upon their faces and coats. Three and three more,—and another, but his progress was stayed.
'Not in here, sir,' said Mr. Falkirk politely, 'I have paid for three seats.'
'There ain't another seat,' says the driver,—'and he ain't a big man, sir—guess maybe you'll let him have a corner—we'll make it all right, sir.' He had a corner,—and so did our heroine! The new dress! Never mind; the sooner this went the sooner she would get another. And they rolled off, sweetly and silently, upon the country road. The morning was lovely. Light scarfs of fog floated about the mountain tops, light veils of cloud just mystified the sky; the tree-tops glittered with dew, the birds flew in and out; and through an open corner of her leathern curtain Wych Hazel peered out, gazing at the new world wherein she was going to seek her fortune.
'Spend the Summer at Chickaree, Mr. Falkirk?' said a voice from the further end of the coach. Wych Hazel drew in her head and her attention, and sat back 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.