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.