I'ss THE HUNTING FIELD 



before we finish our book. Sir Rasper, as we said before, 

 did not cast up at the Fleecy Hall dinner, and, as usual, in 

 all cases of extreme anxiety, no end of mistaken, and, we fear, 

 somewhat illiberal surmises, were indulged in, as to the cause 

 of his absence. Mrs. Cottonwool, who had been "trotted 

 out " by a few men before she became Mrs. Cottonwool, and 

 knew all the symptoms of " no go," set it down at once as a 

 case of desertion — " trifling with her daughter's feelings," as 

 they call it. It never entered her mind that a man could love 

 hunting better than his food, after the fashion of Gray's bull- 

 dog, who is reported to have loved fighting better than his, 

 and therefore she would advise Henrietta to have no more 

 to say to Sir Rasper. Indeed, for her part, she thought her 

 daughter had had a most fortunate escape, for it was quite 

 impossible to look for conjugal happiness \\ith a man so 

 thoroughly undomesticated as he was, who thought of nothing 

 but tearing about the country from morning to night ; indeed, 

 if all were true, there were otlicr objections, which Mrs. Cotton- 

 wool indicated by sundry little tosses of her head, much in the 

 manner of a carriage horse teased by flies. 



Old "Wool," of course, said that he never thought there 

 was anything in it, which procured him the usual recommenda- 

 tion "to hold his tongue, and not talk about things he did 

 not understand," for Mrs. Cottonwool had clearly settled in 

 her own mind that there had been a " nibble," and though 

 she might pretend to " whip off" at present, she meant to lay 

 Henrietta on again the first convenient opportunit}'. Those 

 opportunities in the country are very rare, especially in the 

 hunting season, where men ivill make their engagements sub- 

 servient to hunting. This is where hunt balls tell; it gives 

 the women a chance of bringing men to book ; for, as they 

 cannot be hunting at night, if they have any " y^«/ intentions " 

 they can come to a ball. 



Henrietta Cottonwool, of course, being of the same way of 



