seen hounds pass and receiving "no," for an answer he jogged on at a faster trot, fearing that the hounds might have gone away in some other direction. As he came around a bend in the road, he saw four women riding toward him, and as they drew near, he saw that it was Lady Violet Weatherbone and her three daughters. These young ladies were known as the Three Guardsmen, a sobriquet not wholly inappropriate; for, as Lord Frederic described them, they were "uncommon big boned, upstanding fillies," between twenty-five and thirty and very hard goers across any country, and always together.

   "Good morning," said Mr. Carteret, bowing. "I suppose the hounds are close by?" It was a natural assumption, as Lady Violet on hunting days was never very far from the hounds.

   "I do not know," she responded, and her tone further implied that she did not care.

   Mr. Carteret hesitated a moment. "Has anything happened?" he asked.

   "Yes," said Lady Violet frankly, "something has happened." Here the daughters modestly turned their horses away.

   "Some one," continued Lady Violet, "brought savages to the meet." She paused impressively.

   "Not really!" said Mr. Carteret with hypocritical surprise.

   "Yes," said Lady Violet, "and while it would have mattered little to me, it was impossible—" She motioned with her head toward the three maidens, and paused.

   "Forgive me," said Mr. Carteret, "but I hardly understand."

   "At the first I thought," said Lady Violet, "that they were attired in painted fleshings, but upon using my glass, it was clear that I was mistaken. Otherwise, I should have brought them away at the first moment."

   "I see," said Mr. Carteret. "It is outrageous."

   "It is indeed!" said Lady Violet; "but the matter will not be allowed to drop. They were brought to the meet by that young profligate, Lord Frederic Westcote."

   "You surprise me," said Mr. Carteret, wholly without shame. He bowed, started his horse, and jogged along for five minutes, then he turned to the right upon a crossroad and suddenly found himself upon the hounds. They were feathering excitedly about the mouth of a tile drain into which the fox had evidently gone. No master, huntsmen nor whips were in sight, but sitting, wet and mud 

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