d so much more
delightful because Mrs. Carbuncle had not gone quite so well as she
liked to go, and because Lucinda had fallen into the water.

They did not dine till past eight, and the ladies and gentlemen all
left the room together. Coffee and liqueurs were to be brought into
the drawing-room, and they were all to be intimate, comfortable,
and at their ease;--all except Sir Griffin Tewett, who was still
very sulky. "Did he say anything?" Mrs. Carbuncle had asked. "Yes."
"Well?" "He proposed; but of course I could not answer him when I was
wet through." There had been but a moment, and in that moment this
was all that Lucinda would say.

"Now I don't mean to stir again," said Lizzie, throwing herself into
a corner of a sofa, "till somebody carries me to bed. I never was
so tired in all my life." She was tired, but there is a fatigue
which is delightful as long as all the surroundings are pleasant and
comfortable.

"I didn't call it a very hard day," said Mrs. Carbuncle.

"You only killed one fox," said Mr. Emilius, pretending a
delightfully clerical ignorance, "and on Monday you killed four. Why
should you be tired?"

"I suppose it was nearly twenty miles," said Frank, who was also
ignorant.

"About ten, perhaps," said Lord George. "It was an hour and forty
minutes, and there was a good bit of slow hunting after we had come
back over the river."

"I'm sure it was thirty," said Lizzie, forgetting her fatigue in her
energy.

"Ten is always better than twenty," said Lord George, "and five
generally better than ten."

"It was just whatever is best," said Lizzie. "I know Frank's friend,
Mr. Nappie, said it was twenty. By-the-bye, Frank, oughtn't we to
have asked Mr. Nappie home to dinner?"

"I thought so," said Frank; "but I couldn't take the liberty myself."

"I really think poor Mr. Nappie was very badly used," said Mrs.
Carbuncle.

"Of course he was," said Lord George;--"no man ever worse since
hunting was invented. He was entitled to a dozen dinners and no end
of patronage; but you see he took it out in calling your cousin Mr.
Greystockings."

"I felt that blow," said Frank.

"I shall always call you Cousin Greystockings," said Lizzie.

"It was hard," continued Lord George, "and I understood it all so
well when he got into a mess in his wrath about booking the horse
to Kilmarnock. If the horse had been on the roadside, he or his men
could have protected him. He is put under the protection of a who