“Who are foxes?”

“Why, the Miss Worthses, madam.”

“The Miss Worths! the weavers! why, what on earth have they to do with what we nave been speaking of?”

“Yes, madam; the Miss Worthses is the foxes that Mr. Brudenell is a-huntin’ of.”

“The Miss Worths?  My son hunting the Miss Worths!  What do you mean, sir?  Take care what you say of Mr. Brudenell, Morris.”

“Yes, madam, certainly; I won’t speak another word on the subject; and I beg your pardon for having mentioned it at all; which I did from a sense of duty to your family, madam, thinking you ought to know it; but I am very sorry I made such a mistake, and again I beg your pardon, madam, and I humbly take my leave.”  And with a low bow the professor turned to depart.

“Stop, fool!” said Mrs. Brudenell.  And the “fool” stopped and turned, hat in hand, waiting further orders.

“Do you mean to say that Mr. Brudenell goes after those girls?” asked the lady, raising her voice ominously.

“Yes, madam; leastways, after Miss Nora.  You see, madam, young gentlemen will be young gentlemen, for all their mas can say or do; and when the blood is warm and the spirits is high, and the wine is in and the wit is out—­”

“No preaching, I say!  Pray, are you a clergyman or a barrister?  Tell me at once what reason you have for saying that my son goes to Worths’ cottage?”

“Yes, madam; I has seen him often and often along of Miss Nora a-walking in the valley forest, when I have been there myself looking for herbs and roots to make up my vegetable medicines with.  And I have seen him go home with her.  And at last I said, ’It is my bounden duty to go and tell the madam.’”

“You are very sure of what you say?”

“Yes, madam, sure as I am of my life and my death.”

“This is very annoying! very!  I had supposed Mr. Brudenell to have had better principles.  Of course, when a young gentleman of his position goes to see a girl of hers, it can be but with one object.  I had thought Herman had better morals, and Hannah at least more sense!  This is very annoying! very!” said the lady to herself, as her brows contracted with anger.  After a few moments spent in silent thought, she said: 

“It is the girl Nora, you say, he is with so much?”

“Yes, madam.”

“Then go to the hut this very evening and tell that girl she must come up here to-morrow morning to see me.  I thank you for your zeal in my service, Morris, and will find a way to reward you.  And now you may do my errand.”

“Certainly, madam!  My duty to you, madam,” said the professor, with a low bow, as he left the room and hurried away to deliver his message to Nora Worth.

“This is very unpleasant,” said the lady.  “But since Hannah has no more prudence than to let a young gentleman visit her sister, I must talk to the poor, ignorant child myself, and warn her that she risks her good name, as well as her peace of mind.”