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The smoke at the bottom had become so dense that Nick no longer could see her, but he felt quite sure that he could put an end to her present murderous game. He drew his revolver and fired two quick shots in her direction. One bullet crashed through the ceiling above her. The second clipped a lock of hair from over the vixen's ear.
And Ned, who had been waiting in the street with the horses, obsequiously held his hand while his young mistress leaped into Vixen's saddle. Leaving the darkey to follow upon black Calhoun, she cantered off up the street, greatly to the admiration of the neighbor. They threw open their windows to wave at her, but Virginia pressed her lips and stared straight ahead.
But if one tears a lace flounce, you know, they look daggers. It's something too dreadful to feel oneself walking into honiton at ten guineas a yard, and the more one tries to extricate oneself the more harm one does." Vixen's supper was the merest pretence. Her mother sat opposite her, with Captain Winstanley still in attendance.
Then she began to wonder where she was, and what the people would say to her; at first she had been only glad to get off Vixen's back, the pony had jumped and reared at such a rate for the last five minutes.
Then came a piece of cheese and a quart jug with a crown of foam upon it. He placed them all on the round deal table which stood against his large arm-chair in the chimney-corner, with Vixen's hamper on one side of it and a window-shelf with a few books piled up in it on the other.
They talked of old times, sometimes sadly, sometimes sportively, glancing swiftly from one old memory to another. All Rorie's tiresome ways, all Vixen's mischievous tricks, were remembered. "I think I led you a life in those days, didn't I, Rorie?" asked Vixen, leaving the teatray, and stealing softly behind her lover's chair to lean over his shoulder caressingly, and pull his thick brown beard.
"Wouldn't be honest to charge unless you asked me to convoy you, gov'nor. And if you're looking for the vixen's room, it's where you bunked before. I got around after I spotted you here." Sheila Corey forced herself to a sitting position and spat at Izzy. "Traitor! Crooked little traitor!" "Shut up, Sheila," Izzy said. "Your retainer ran out." Surprisingly, she did shut up.
But since she did not for the present care to enter the vixen's den, that opportunity never came till her own family arrangements claimed her undivided attention, and effectually prevented her from following the course of action she had planned. In the first week of April, the badger's spring-cleaning began in downright earnest.
She ought to be very happy now, poor dear; she has the husband of her choice, and no rebellious daughter to make the atmosphere stormy. I must write to Mrs. Scobel, and ask if mamma is really not quite so well as when I left home." And then Vixen's thoughts wandered away to Rorie, and the alterations that were being made at Briarwood.
The chair was empty now, but, stretched at full length before the blazing logs, lay the Squire's chosen companion, Nip, a powerful liver-coloured pointer; and beside him in equally luxurious rest, reclined Argus, Vixen's mastiff. There was a story about Vixen and the mastiff, involving the only incident in that young lady's life the recollection whereof could make her blush.
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