daughters to admire; while of the men, all were at her feet.
Attentions, civil, kind, and recommendatory, showered on Miss
Hazel from all sides. Would that little head stand it, with
its wayward curls and some slight indication of waywardness
within? How would it keep its position over such a crowd of
servants self-made in her honour? Some of them were very
devoted servants indeed, and seemed willing to proclaim their
devotion. Among these was Mr. Kingsland, who constituted
himself her right-hand man in general; but Dr. Maryland was
not far off, if less presuming. Miss Hazel could not walk or
ride or come into a room without some sort of homage from one
or all of these.

'Dear little thing! pretty little thing!' exclaimed a lady, an
old acquaintance of Mr. Falkirk's, one evening. 'Charming
little creature! How will she bear it?'

Mr. Falkirk was standing near by.

'She wants a better guardian,' the lady went on whispering.

'I wish she had a mother,' he said.

'Or a husband!'

Mr. Falkirk was silent; then he said, 'It is too soon for
that.'

'Yes--too soon,' said the lady meditatively as she looked at
Wych Hazel's curls,--'but what will she do? Somebody will