174 THE MASIER OF THE HOUNDS 



plied Bob. " She must naturally feel very grateful to Beau- 

 champ for risking his life in her defence ; but that impression 

 may be rubbed off by a season in town." 



" I think not, Conyers ; but, at any rate, I hold mj deter- 

 mination of exposing that fellow, Vancourt, and will certainly 

 prevail upon the Italian to give her evidence, if possible. She 

 is passionate and revengeful, as women of her country gene- 

 rally are ; and I verily believe, from what she told me, that, had 

 Vancourt succeeded in carrying off and marrying Miss Douglas, 

 she would have followed and stabbed him to the heart." 



Under the presidency of Lord Malcolm, who officiated as 

 master of the ceremonies, Mrs. Gordon's party passed off most 

 pleasantly, being pronounced by the younger portion of the 

 company the most agreeable and enjoyable reunion oi the season. 

 All the arrangements were good, the persons invited (with few 

 exceptions) being well known and on good terms with each 

 other. The little band of music was the best that could be 

 procured ; and the refreshments abundant, and of the best de- 

 scription. At the supper-table champagne circulated most 

 freely, Malcolm and Conyers acting as toast-masters, at dif- 

 ferent tables, having resolved that Aunt Gordon's guests should 

 have good cause to remember the Priory ball, and heron whose 

 account it had been given. 



Sir Lionel Markham and the old squire kept the game up 

 some time after the ladies quitted the supper-table, with their 

 good-humoured and witty remarks. " Now, gentlemen," said 

 Somerville Coventry, rising, " with Lord Malcolm's leave, I will 

 propose two toasts, to which, I believe, all here assembled will 

 heartily respond : ' Health and happiness to our kind hostess, 

 Mrs. Gordon and her fair niece, Miss Douglas, and confusion 

 to the scoundrel who attempted her abduction ! ' " which was 

 rapturously received, all rising and cheering. When this had 

 subsided, Coventry again rose, observing, " The next toast I 

 have to propose is, ' Fox-hunting,' with which I must couple 

 the names of our present high-spirited young master. Will 

 Beauchamp, and his worthy father the old squire.'" 



"That's your sort," vociferated Sir Lucius Gwynne, "trumps, 

 both ; fill your glasses, gentlemen, no heel-taps — but bumpers 

 fair — ' The Beauchamps and fox-hunting'" — and a hearty hip ! 

 hip ! hurrah ! followed, which echoed through every room in 

 the house. "Well done, my friends," shouted Gwynne; 

 *' Floreat sclentia, esto perpetual 



William Beauchamp returned thanks in a short, unpretending 



