LADY FOXHUNTERS 301 



men who don't make up to their daughters — " Poor 

 lost creature ! " and so on. 



We have now run a ring with our hero, and shall 

 bring him back to the starting place to see if Henrietta 

 Cottonwool can run a "ring" with him too. Oh, 

 could but another Diable Boiteux visit the earth, 

 disclosing the secrets of human breasts, as Le Sage's 

 Diable disclosed the secrets of the town, what a real 

 blessing it would be to sighing, dying, suitoring 

 lovers ! When Sir Rasper Smashgate did not cast 

 up at Cottonwool's, what tormenting thoughts racked 

 the mind of poor Henrietta ! Dressed in her new 

 pale blue satin, with a point berthe, and a silver 

 thing like a cow tie twisted in her bright brown hair, 

 and a winter's nosegay in her hand, of which nosegay 

 she was ready to give Sir Rasper any part he asked, 

 or the whole of her hand if he preferred. All this, 

 too, after she had planned the proceedings of the 

 drawing-room, the line of march to the dining-room, 

 so as to manoeuvre herself next him at dinner, ring 

 after ring, and door after door opened, and no Sir 

 Rasper. Everybody but him. 



Cruel Lord Uncommonswell ! or rather cruel fox 

 that took the cruel hounds such a cruel distance. 

 When Sir Rasper Smashgate ought to have been 

 sitting down to dinner at Mr. Cottonwool's, he was 

 sucking off a pair of waterlogged boots and tripey 

 leathers at a village public twenty miles off. They 

 had had a tremendous run ! They were sure to have, 

 indeed. It only requires a man to have a particular 

 engagement in the east to insure him a splitting run 

 to the west. Sir Rasper had been uncommonly well 

 carried; indeed, he generally was, and wearing a 

 blank button had felt himself bound to ride for the 

 honour of the world at large. He was so elevated 

 that we are almost ashamed to say he never thought 

 of Cottonwool, Henrietta, or anybody, until he got 

 his huge legs dived into a bucket of hot water. 



