ey were at table, where Macey proved himself a
pretty good trencherman till the plates were changed and Eliza brought
in a dish and placed it before her mistress.

"Hum!" said the doctor, "only one pudding and no sweets. Why, Macey,
they're behaving shabbily to you to-day."

Aunt Hannah looked puzzled, and Vane stared.

"Is there no tart or custard, Eliza?" asked the doctor.

"Yes, sir; both coming, sir," said the maid, who was very red in the
face.

"Then what have you there?"

Eliza made an unspellable noise in her throat, snatched off the cover
from the dish, and hurried out of the room.

"Dear me!" said the doctor putting on his glasses, and looking at the
dish in which, in the midst of a quantity of brownish sauce, there was a
little island of blackish scraps, at which Aunt Hannah gazed blankly,
spoon in hand.

"What is it, my dear?" continued the doctor.

"I'm afraid, dear, it is a dish of those fungi that Vane brought in this
morning."

"Oh, I see. You will try them, Macey?"

"Well, sir, I--"

"Of course he will, uncle. Have a taste, Aleck. Give him some, aunt."

Aunt Hannah placed a portion upon their visitor's plate, and Macey was
wonderfully polite--waiting for other people to be served before he
began.

"Oh, I say, aunt, take some too," cried Vane.

"Do you wish it, my dear? Well, I will;" and Aunt Hannah helped
herself, as the doctor began to turn his portion over; and Macey thought
of poisoning, doctors, and narrow escapes, as he trifled with the
contents of his plate.

"Humph!" said the doctor breaking a painful silence. "I'm afraid, Vane,
that cook has made a mistake."

"Mistake, sir?" cried Macey, eagerly; "then you think they are not
wholesome?"

"Decidedly not," said the doctor. "I suppose these are your
chanterelles, Vane."

"Don't look like 'em, uncle."

"No, my boy, they do not. I can't find any though," said the doctor, as
he turned over his portion with his fork. "No: I was wrong."

"They are not the chanterelles then, uncle?"

"Oh, yes, my boy, they are. I was afraid that Martha had had an
accident with the fungi, and had prepared a substitute from my old
shooting boots, but I can't see either eyelet or nail. Can you?"

"Oh, my dear!" cried Aunt Hannah to her nephew; "do, pray, ring, and
have them taken away. You really should not bring in such things to be
cooked."

"No, no: stop a moment," said the doctor, as Macey grinned with delight;
"let's see f