"Wind him, Bolton; Beaver's got it.
Very good thing, my lady, isn't it? Now, Carstairs, if you're a--going to
'unt the fox you'd better 'unt him." Carstairs was the horsey man, and one
with whom Morgan very often quarrelled. "That's it, my hearties," and
Morgan was across a broken wall in a moment, after the leading hounds.
"Are we to go on?" said Lizzie, who feared much that Lucinda would get
ahead of her. There was a matter of three dozen horsemen up now, and, as
far as Lizzie saw, the whole thing might have to be done again. In
hunting, to have ridden is the pleasure; and not simply to have ridden
well, but to have ridden better than others.
"I call it very awkward ground," said Mrs. Carbuncle, coming up. "It can't
be compared to the Baron's country."
"Stone walls four feet and a half high, and well built, are awkward," said
the noble master.
But the hounds were away again, and Lizzie had got across the gap before
Lucinda, who, indeed, made way for her hostess with a haughty politeness
which was not lost upon Lizzie. Lizzie could not stop to beg pardon, but
she would remember to do it in her prettiest way on their journey home.
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