crême au gratin,' said Miss Hazel, throwing off her bonnet and
curling herself down on the arm of the sofa. 'Mr. Falkirk, all
my previous acquaintance with cushions was superficial!--And
could you just open the window, sir, and throw back the
blinds? last November is in this room, apples and all.'

Mr. Falkirk obeyed directions, remarking that people who
travel in search of their fortune must expect to meet with
November in unexpected places; and then went off into the
general eating-room, and by and by, from there or some other
insalubrious region came a servant, with half of an
imperfectly broiled fowl and muddy dish of coffee, flanked by
a watery pickled cucumbers. Mr. Falkirk himself presently
returned.

'How does it go?' he said.

'What, Mr. Falkirk?' the young lady was curled down in one
corner of the sofa, much like a kitten; a small specimen of
which animal purred complacently on her shoulder.

'Could you eat, Miss Hazel?'

'Truly, sir, I could. Mr. Falkirk--what a lovely kitten! Do you
remark her length of tail?'

Mr. Falkirk thought he had heard of "puss in boots" before,
but never had the full realization thereof till now.

'You have tasted nothing,' he said. 'What shall I get you? We