“I am afraid I am responsible for the delay,” said I.
“But not for the tumble I suppose,” said Kate from the other side. I felt that I blushed up to the eyes, but I did not dare to enter into explanations.
“Tom,” said Tizzy, addressing her father across the table, “I hope you had a good run to-day.” It did seem odd to me that a young lady should call her father Tom, but such was the fact.
“Well; pretty well,” said Mr. O’Conor.
“And I hope you were up with the hounds.”
“You may ask Mr. Green that. He at any rate was with them, and therefore he can tell you.”
“Oh, he wasn’t before you, I know. No Englishman could get before you;—I am quite sure of that.”
“Don’t you be impertinent, miss,” said Kate. “You can easily see, Mr. Green, that papa spoils my sister Eliza.”
“Do you hunt in top-boots, Mr. Green?” said Tizzy.
To this I made no answer. She would have drawn me into a conversation about my feet in half a minute, and the slightest allusion to the subject threw me into a fit of perspiration.