"Rather not! Given us up long ago. It must be getting on for an hour.

I can't think how I came to forget--"

Margot glanced at him shyly beneath her curling lashes.

"It was the fish! A fisherman can't be expected to remember anything

when he is landing a trout!" she suggested soothingly. Nevertheless she

remembered with a thrill of joy that his forgetfulness had dated back to

a time when there had been no fish in prospect. "Do you suppose they

have gone home?"

"We will go and see. From that mound over there we can overlook the

path to the inn. Perhaps we had better keep a little in the background!

It would be as well that they should not see us, if they happened to

look up--"

If it were possible to feel a degree hotter, Margot felt it at that

moment, as she followed George Elgood up the little hillock to the

right, and, pausing just short of the top, peered stealthily around. A

simultaneous exclamation broke from both lips; simultaneously they drew

back, and crouched on their knees to peer over the heather.

There they went!--straggling in a row in the direction of the inn, the

party of revellers who had been so basely deserted.

First, the clergyman, with his hands clasped behind his back, his head

bent in thought; a pensive reveller, this, already beginning to repent a

heavy, indigestible meal; next, Mrs Macalister, holding her skirts in

characteristic fashion well up in front and sweeping the ground behind;

a pace or two in the rear, her spouse, showing depression and weariness

in every line of his body. Yet farther along the two young men carrying

the empty hampers; last of all, at quite a little distance from the

rest, the figure of the Chieftain stepping out with a tread even more

conspicuously jaunty than usual, his hands thrust deep into his pockets,

his head turned from side to side, as if curiously scanning the

hillsides.

At one and the same moment Margot and the Editor ducked their heads, and

scrambled backwards for a distance of two or three yards. There was a

moment's silence, then instinctively their eyes met. Margot pressed her

lips tightly together, George Elgood frowned, but it was all in vain; no

power on earth could prevent the mischievous dimples from dipping in her

cheeks; no effort could hide the twinkle in his eyes--they buried their

heads in their hands, and shook with laughter!

When at last composure was regained, George Elgood pulled his watch from

his pocket, glanced at the time, and cried eagerly-"There is still an hour before we need be back for dinner. As well be

hanged for a sheep as a lamb. Let us go back to the river, and try our

luck once more!"




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