130 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 



Then, amid the clashing of plates, the rattling of knives 

 and forks, and the popping of champagne corks, the festive 

 banquet was fairly started. 



Supper at the Haughtyshire Hunt Ball was always con- 

 ducted on somewhat old-fashioned lines. None of your 

 rushing in to gobble down the wing of a chicken and a stale 

 roll, half a glass of champagne, and off again to the dance- 

 room. Not a bit of it. Supper was a very solid, as well as a 

 somewhat formal function here, and the Duke was always 

 expected to propose that time-honoured toast, the ladies. 

 Upon the youngest bachelor present usually devolved the 

 task of replying, but on this particular occasion young Mr. 

 Calflove had so earnestly entreated the Duke to let him off, 

 that His Grace had done so, conditionally on his supplying 

 a sacrificial victim to take his place. Calflove had easily 

 persuaded Stepitoff to do this, and after a few graceful words 

 from the Duke in proposing the toast, a loud clattering of 

 glasses and rapping of knife-handles on the supper-table 

 heralded the rising of the Baron. 



Smiling in a very self-satisfied manner on the company, 

 he began — 



"Milor Duke, gentle ladies and mens: As a strrangere to 

 your shores I 'ave to bless you for ze honour you give me to 

 reply ze toast of ze ladies. Ze ladies of zese countries 

 are amongst ze most beautifullest of zare sex." ("When 

 zey are amongst French or Kussian womens," he added to 

 himself.) " Ze English ladies have ze best gomplexions, 

 ze finest 'air, ze longest feet — ah ! pardon ! — I should say 

 ze most bewitchin' manners of ze world ! I would zat I 

 could stay in zis noble land for nevermore ; but Jielas .' I 



