at once, he heard among the long grass at his head a whirring sound, and a fox dashed close past him. Ay, but that was a scurry! Horses, dogs, and men, away they set after the fox, and they never came back that day.[12] So again the Lord delivered him." "But you don't think, Patient, that He made the fox on purpose?" "Madam," said Patient, a little dryly, "I am not in the Lord's counsels. I should fancy that He guided a common fox to do the thing; but I cannot presume to say that the bit beastie was not created there and then. We are too apt to limit the Lord, Madam." "But God has given over creating, Patient." "Has He so, Madam?" asked Patient, dubiously. "Is it no new creation when the buds spring forth, when the grass groweth up, and 'He reneweth the face of the earth'?[13] 'God did rest the seventh day from all His works;'[14] but the Scripture doth not tell us what He did on the eighth. Moreover, saith our Lord that 'the Father worketh.'[15] This I know--that if the purpose of the Lord were to preserve John Paterson by means of a fox, that fox should sooner have been brought from the Indies as on dry land than that His purpose should fail. 'He will work, and who shall let it?'"[16] "I say!" observed Mr. Philip Ingram at the door, "what have you been doing, or saying, or something, to my mother? I have not seen her in such a state I don't know when." "I am afraid I have displeased her," said Celia, "but I could not help it. If I had it to do over again, I must say just the same thing in substance." "Have you been running a tilt with her, my pugnacious warrior?" asked Philip, glancing at his reflection in the mirror. "Something like it, I am afraid." "Ah! I thought as much when I was desired, just now, to talk upon some subject more agreeable than you. I said I did not know any, and departed; doubly willing to do so as I found that she had the megrims." "I thought she looked poorly," said Celia, compassionately. Philip indulged in a peal of laughter. "My sweet rustic innocence! I thought I told you that megrims stood for Père Letellier. He is closeted with her Ladyship, assisting her to mourn over your lamentable departure from the faith and the mode. I should not very much wonder if you were treated to a visit from his reverence." "Oh dear!" said Celia, involuntarily. "He isn't such a formidable being," said Philip. "He used to confess me when I was about the height of that table, and order me a certain quantity of sugar-plums for penance--I know it was two for squalling, and four for stamping and kicking. I lost my temper with tolerable frequency under that discipline." Patient sighed and shook her head slowly. "Now how much wisdom lies in a shake of some people's heads! Patient, my dear creature, you could not have conveyed your meaning half so well in words." "I am doubtful if you know my meaning, Mr. Philip."