'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 Wych Hazel, studying her future
fortunes in the fire.

'What fits?'

'My going to seek what I am sure to find.'