Her guardian cast two or three rather inquiring looks at her; but seeing that she undoubtedly was well, and probably had not been ill, he contentedly and unsuspiciously, man-like, dismissed the subject and came to breakfast as she bade him. 'It is so long since I had my own way,' he remarked dryly, 'I have forgotten how it feels. Your state of serene satisfaction is unknown to me. How long do you intend to keep it up, Miss Hazel?' 'Until some restless person puts it to flight, sir, I suppose. That is the usual fate of my serene states, as you call them.' 'It occurs to me,' Mr. Falkirk went on, 'that in our recent search after fortune and in the general hallucination which in such a search prevails, I am a good honest big Newfoundland dog— transformed into the present shape for the more efficient performance of the duty of barking round his mistress. I feel that to be about my present status and dignity, plainly expressed.' 'The way gentlemen make statements!' said Wych Hazel. 'Perhaps you are aware, sir, who brought me home here, a month ago, when I did not want to come?' 'I don't remember it,' said Mr. Falkirk. 'I only remember who took me to all the watering-places on the continent—where I didn't want to go. I should like to be informed, Miss Hazel, when the search after fortune is to end—when I may reasonably hope to resume my own shape again? You may not suppose it; but barking tries a man's powers.' 'I had not perceived it, sir. On the contrary, your voice has been particularly sonorous of late.' 'Are you aware it is the first of October, Miss Hazel?' 'Time for chestnuts, isn't it?' said the girl. 'I had forgotten all bout them.' 'There are other nuts to crack besides chestnuts. The owner of the house you had last winter has written to ask if you want it again this year.' 'Talk of the restlessness of women!' said Hazel. 'Here are we but just settled in the country, and Mr. Falkirk already proposing to return to town.' 'I don't know what you are,' said Mr. Falkirk, 'but _I_ am not settled. Of course, coming home at the end of the season, I have no cook; and Gotham informs me that the kitchen chimney smokes. I should think it did, to judge by the condition of my beefsteaks.' 'I am very sorry, sir! Suppose you condescend to _my_ beefsteaks— until the cook and the smoke change places? The blue room is in perfect order—and would suit your state of mind,' said Miss Wych, eyeing Mr. Falkirk with an air of deep gravity. 'Then there is always Europe——' 'Is _that_ the next thing!' exclaimed Mr. Falkirk, with a positively alarmed air. 'I have been expecting it.' 'I wanted to go last year, you know, sir,—and (if nobody said anything against it) I think I should write at once and secure my passage.' 'To what quarter of the world, miss Hazel?' 'We might go round, sir; and stop where things promised fairest.' 'We might. Then I am to understand you do not like the promise of things at Chickaree?'