Among the laurels at the bottom of the park a fox was found, and then there was a great deal of riding about the grounds.  All this was much enjoyed by the ladies who were on foot,—­and by the Senator who wandered about the place alone.  A gentleman’s park is not always the happiest place for finding a fox.  The animal has usually many resources there and does not like to leave it.  And when he does go away it is not always easy to get after him.  But ladies in a carriage or on foot on such occasions have their turn of the sport.  On this occasion it was nearly one before the fox allowed himself to be killed, and then he had hardly been outside the park palings.  There was a good deal of sherry drank before the party got away and hunting men such as Major Caneback began to think that the day was to be thrown away.  As they started off for Shugborough Springs, the little covert on John Runce’s farm which was about four miles from Rufford Hall, Sir John asked the Major to get on another animal.  “You’ve had trouble enough with her for one day, and given her enough to do.”  But the Major was not of that way of thinking.  “Let her have the day’s work,” said the Major.  “Do her good.  Remember what she’s learned.”  And so they trotted off to Shugborough.

While they were riding about the park Morton had kept near to Miss Trefoil.  Lord Rufford, being on his own place and among his own coverts, had had cares on his hand and been unable to devote himself to the young lady.  She had never for a moment looked up at her lover, or tried to escape from him.  She had answered all his questions, saying, however, very little, and had bided her time.  The more gracious she was to Morton now the less ground would he have for complaining of her when she should leave him by-and-by.  As they were trotting along the road Lord Rufford came up and apologized.  “I’m afraid I’ve been very inattentive, Miss Trefoil; but I dare say you’ve been in better hands.”

“There hasn’t been much to do;—­has there?”

“Very little.  I suppose a man isn’t responsible for having foxes that won’t break.  Did you see the Senator?  He seemed to think it was all right.  Did you hear of John Runce?” Then he told the story of John Runce, which had been told to him.

“What a fine old fellow!  I should forgive him his rent”

“He is much better able to pay me double.  Your Senator, Mr. Morton, is a very peculiar man.”

“He is peculiar,” said Morton, “and I am sorry to say can make himself very disagreeable.”

“We might as well trot on as Shugborough is a small place, and a fox always goes away from it at once.  John Runce knows how to train them better than I do.  Then they made their way on through the straggling horses, and John Morton, not wishing to seem to be afraid of his rival, remained alone.  “I wish Caneback had left that mare behind,” said the lord as they went.  “It isn’t the country for her, and she is going very nastily with him.  Are you fond of hunting, Miss Trefoil?”