150 A BREAKFAST, AND— BROKEN BONES. 



suspect — for what woman ever excited the smallest 

 spark of passion in a male breast without being con- 

 scious of it — that the handsome Virginian really did 

 think her a charming girl, a distant rate and the clang- 

 ing report of a hunting whip turned the current of all 

 thoughts and eyes to the park. 



And lo ! across the green, well-kept lawn, the beau- 

 tiful dog-pack, twenty couple of glossy, many-colored 

 beauties, with great bland fawning eyes, and high- 

 waving feathery sterns, came trotting along as steadily 

 as veterans, at the heels of '' Clinker," bestridden by 

 Jack Stevens, and kept in order by the voices and 

 whips of three or four light scarlet-frocked whippers-in. 



The squeal of the squire was next heard, and in he 

 came, full of fun as usual, clamoring for his cup of 

 coifee and thimblefull of curagoa, with half the hunt at 

 his heels ; and the quiet breakfast-room was converted 

 into a levee of gay scarlet jackets and white leathers, 

 worn by cavaliers as gallant and as daring as ever 

 rode the ring before the hapless Mary, or her hard 

 rival, lion-hearted Bess of England. 



A few minutes more; and the squire looked at his 

 watch, and asked the admiral which of his coverts was 

 likeliest to hold a fox. 



" The osier holt by the Arningsby brook-side. My 

 keeper tells me a large dog-fox has haunted it all the 

 season." 



" The osier holt be it then," said the squire. " Ma- 

 gher, as you're going to make a start, I see, be good 

 enough to tell Stevens to get forward to the osier holt. 

 Now, gentlemen, boot and saddle is the word. I hope 

 the chestnut mare is in trim. Miss Mary, for the flats 

 will be hough deep to-day, if pug heads toward 

 Loughborough and the river, which with this south- 

 easter he is like enough to do." 



"Look at her, squire," she answered, pointing with 

 her whip to the fine, highly groomed chestnut mare, 



