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'Is it?' blurted his lordship, pretending to be desperately busy with the
contents of his plate, though in reality his appetite was gone.
A dead pause now ensued, interrupted only by the clattering of knives and
forks, and the occasional exclamations of parties in want of some
particular article of food. A chill had come over the scene--a chill whose
cause was apparent to every one, except the worthy host and hostess, who
had not heard of Mr. Sponge's descent upon the country. They attributed it
to his lordship's indisposition, and Mr. Springwheat endeavoured to cheer
him up with the prospect of sport.
'There's a brace, if not a leash, of foxes in cover, my lord,' observed he,
seeing his lordship was only playing with the contents of his plate.
'Is there?' exclaimed his lordship, brightening up: 'let's be at 'em!'
added he, jumping up and diving under the side-table for his flat hat and
heavy iron hammer-headed whip. 'Good morning, my dear Mrs. Springwheat,'
exclaimed he, putting on his hat and seizing both her soft fat-fingered
hands and squeezing them ardently.


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