30 SKETCHES IN THE HUNTING FIELD. 



utter impossibility of giving vent to his feelings ; but 

 his face is a study as he replies, " I'm afraid you have 

 scarcely assisted us very much, then, Miss Trewson," 

 and rides off. 



" What's the matter with Sir Henry ? he doesn't 

 seem at all nice this morning," Kitty innocently asks 

 an acquaintance. 



" You headed the fox, didn't you ? " he answers, 

 hoping that the amiably spoken query will convey a 

 reproof. 



"Yes ; and I suppose he's vexed because he didn't see 

 it ? " she surmises. 



"Perhaps that was it," he drily rejoins ; whereupon 

 Kitty, with a dim perception, it may be, that she ought 

 not to have had the fox all to herself, grows energetic. 

 We are now in a ride in the covert. Old Ranger, the 

 well-beloved hero of a clever pack, puts his wise old 

 nose to the underwood, ponderingly and suspicious. 



" Go and hunt, bad dog ! " cries Kitty, " landing " 

 him one with her restless whip, to the infinite surprise 

 of Ranger, who looks up wondering what he has done 

 to be beaten, and runs for an explanation to Bill Heigh, 

 his friend and huntsman. " Please not to flog the 

 hounds, Miss," he says, as he rides past, to Kitty, who 

 looks very angry, and vows that he is an " ill-tempered, 

 rude old thing." 



In spite of Kitty, however, the fox is viewed away on 

 his former line, and young Heathfield, who happens to 

 be by her side, is just turning his horse's head towards 



