The Harkaway Hunt Ball. 103 



know. I wonder where they get it ? " mutters the stranger 

 in an audible voice. 



The Chaplain of the Hunt, the Bishop of Soda and B, 

 who is refreshing his inner-man close by, happens to over- 

 hear the stranger's sotto-voce remark, and promptly eases the 

 latter'smind byinforming him that the wine comes from the 

 renowned cellars of Messrs. French, of St. James's Street. 

 *' Quite right to be cautious though, all the same," adds the 

 reverend ; ^' nothing so deleterious as bad champagne — 

 nothing." Needless to say the man from the Badminton 

 country promptly has his glass filled, and he and the Rector 

 are soon hard at it. The last good things with the 

 Duke's and the latest doings with Lord Daisyfield are 

 discussed con amove, and it is not until the pair have 

 made the bottle of champagne a '^ dead man " that they 

 leave off, and go once more to see how things are going 

 in the ball-room. The Lancers is going on as they enter, 

 and one set in particular, in which Master Charles Wild- 

 oats and Lady Thomasina Clinker are conspicuous, judging 

 by the noise and laughter arising therefrom, seem to be 

 enjoying themselves thoroughly. 



One of the party, a young guardsman from Town, has 

 a pheasant's tail, extracted from a game-pie by Dolly Light- 

 foot, sticking out of his coat-tail pocket, and the fact of his 

 being unaware of the trick that has been played him, makes 

 the laughter louder than ever. 



" Perfectly disgraceful, I call it," says Mrs. Meagrim, 

 who, with her three plain daughters, is ornamenting the 

 side of the room. '' I don't know what would have been 

 said when I was a girl," she adds with a spiteful snifT, 

 " if people calling themselves ladies and gentlemen had 

 deported themselves in that noisy fashion." That ancient 



