"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.'