itting dolmans and spiral
hats; only the buffoon, Count Gregory, was got up, _a l'Anglaise_, in a
red cut-away coat, and piteously begged every one to explain to the dogs
that he was not the fox.

Most of the ladies were also in hunting attire, the close-clinging
bodices exhibiting to admiration their amazonian figures; while the long
trains had to be held up, lest the spurred and booted heroes around them
should trample ruthlessly thereon. And who so beautiful amongst all
these beauties as Flora and Fanny!

And now the bell rang inviting the guests to breakfast. Sausage and herb
pottage, dishes _a la fourchette_, and corresponding drams of strong
spirit awaited them in the dining-room. There was no affectation or
finnicking now: all alike were sportsmen. The sweetest, prettiest ladies
did not refuse, at the request of their admirers, to moisten their rosy
lips with a few drops of thirty-years old szilvorium: everything was
permissible now, and, besides, they had need of strong hearts to-day.
Even the elderly women meant to accompany the huntsmen in carriages.

It was a glorious summer morning when the imposing cavalcade issued from
the courtyard of Karpathy Castle. First of all came the ladies, so many
slim, supple amazons, on prancing steeds, in the midst of a circle of
noisy youths, who made their own horses dance and curvet by the side of
their chosen dames; behind them came the wags of the party, on
splendidly caparisoned rustic nags; and, last of all, the elderly ladies
and gentlemen in their carriages. Squire John himself was in the saddle,
and shewed all the world that he could hold his own with the smartest
cavalier present, and everytime he looked at his wife he seemed to be
twenty years younger, and his face beamed at the thought that she was
such a pretty woman and he was her husband.

Three prizes had been fixed for the best foxhound: the first was a
golden goblet with an inscription on it, the second was a silver
hunting-horn, and the third a beautiful bear-skin; and no doubt the
victorious foxhound would, personally, have been most grateful for the
last. Most of the competing dogs, tied together in couples, were led
along by the men-servants; but each of the favourite foxhounds was
brought on to the ground in a cart, lest any of the horses should kick
it. Naturally none of the company carried fire-arms; it is not usual to
have them at a fox-hunt.

As the whole merry company was approaching the end of