attention for some moments, and carefully removing as well as he was able
to the extreme edge of his plate, the earl discovered to be suet pudding.

"You eat nothing, my lord," cried the squire; "let me give you--this is
more underdone;" holding between blade and fork in middle air abhorrent
fragment of scarlet, shaking its gory locks,--"another slice."

Swift at the word dropped upon Mauleverer's plate the harpy finger and
ruthless thumb of the gray-headed butler. "Not a morsel more," cried the
earl, struggling with the murderous domestic. "My dear sir, excuse me; I
assure you I have never ate such a dinner before,--never!"

"Nay, now!" quoth the squire, expostulating, "you really (and this air is
so keen that your lordship should indulge your appetite, if you follow
the physician's advice) eat nothing!"

Again Mauleverer was at fault.

"The physicians are right, Mr. Brandon," said he, "very right, and I am
forced to live abstemiously; indeed I do not know whether, if I were to
exceed at your hospitable table, and attack all that you would bestow
upon me, I should ever recover it. You would have to seek a new
lieutenant for your charming county, and on the tomb of the last
Mauleverer the hypocritical and unrelated heir would inscribe, 'Died of
the visitation of Beef, John, Earl, etc.'"

Plain as the meaning of this speech might have seemed to others, the
squire only laughed at the effeminate appetite of the speaker, and
inclined to think him an excellent fellow for jesting so good-humouredly
on his own physical infirmity. But Lucy had the tact of her sex, and,