AN ]\r.F.H— ANOTHER VARIETY. 91 



" Surely the hounds do not eat the ski)is ? They do 

 not eat the faces — the masks, I am sure ! " said the 

 dowager. 



"No, ma'am, I cut off the brush and mask and pads, 

 and the hounds have the rest — it's their due, ma'am ! " 

 poor Vale said, wondering what was coming next. The 

 dowager's fond anticipation of a carriage-rug, or what- 

 ever it was she desired, consequently vanished. 



She kept up her control, however, to the best of her 

 ability, and was particularly severe when she heard of a 

 blank day. 



" So you did not kill a fox yesterday. How was 

 that ? " she asked Vale, one day when Wynnerly and I 

 were calling at the Hall, and found him undergoing" his 

 periodical examination. 



" No, ma'am. He went to ground in Mere Woods." 



" Where is that ? " says Lady Thynne. 



" By Bradwyn Hall — in the Fallowfield country, 

 ma'am." 



" How did that happen r Could you not make the 

 hounds go more quickly ? " she inquires, as though 

 Vale were not nearly up to his work, and glancing 

 round at Wynnerly and myself as she speaks, as if to 

 assure us that she takes care of our interests, little as we 

 may think it. Poor Vale looks horrified, but is speech- 

 less, and receiving permission to go retires precipi- 

 tately. It need hardly be added that Sir Henry's 

 return was welcomed with enthusiasm. 



