At Love's Cost

He got to the top of the hill at last and began to drop down; there was

nothing but a wandering sheep-path here and there, and the mountain was

by no means as easy to descend as the classic Avernus; so that when he

got to the bottom and came in sight of the little inn nestling in a

crook of the valley he was both tired and hungry. Howard, beautiful in

evening-dress, came sauntering to the door with his long white hands in

his pocket and a plaintive reproach on his Vandyke face.

"I was just about to send off the search party, my dear Stafford," he

said. "Is it possible that you have just come down that hill? Good

heavens! What follies are committed in thy name, O Sport! And of course

there are no fish--there never are! The water is always too thin or too

thick, the sky too bright or too dull, the wind too high or too low.

Excuses are the badge of all the angling tribe."

Stafford took his basket from his shoulder and made a pretence of

slinging it at Howard's head; then tossed it to the landlord, who stood

by, smiling obsequiously.

"Cook some of 'em as soon as you can," he said; then he followed the

neat and also smiling chamber-maid up to his room, where, for all his

pretended indolence and cynicism, Howard had caused his friend's things

to be laid out in readiness for him. Stafford dressed slowly, smoking a

cigarette during the operation, and still thinking of the strange

"farmer's daughter." And then he went down and joined Howard in the

room he had ordered.

Lake hotels may lack the splendour to which we are all growing

accustomed, and of which, alas! we are also growing rather wearied, but

they are most of them extremely comfortable and cosy; and The Woodman

at Carysford was no exception to the rule. Stafford looked round the

low-pitched room, with its old-fashioned furniture, its white

dinner-cloth gleaming softly in the sunset and the fire-light, and

sighed with a nod of satisfaction.

"This is something like, eh, old man?" he said; and even Howard deigned

to nod approvingly.

"Yes," he said. "If anything could compensate one for the miseries of

travel, especially that awful drive, this should do so. I confess I had

looked forward to a crowning discomfort in the shape of a cold and

draughty and smelly room, fried chops or a gory leg of mutton and a

heel of the cheese made by Noah in the Ark. I fancy that we are going

to have a decent dinner; and I trust I may not be disappointed, for it

is about the only thing that will save my life. Are you dry yet? You

looked as if you had been walking through a river instead of beside

it."