"Where is Hinchley?"
"Gone up to see uncle; he will be down in a moment."
The gentleman entered as she spoke. Sybil Chase was occupied, and did not look up. He gave her a quick glance, started, and a perplexed look passed over his face as if he fancied that he had seen her before, and was trying to remember where; then it faded, and he sat down near his cousin.
"Uncle has gone to bed," he said; "he looks very ill to-night."
"But he is better, I am sure he is," she replied, anxiously.
"I hope so," he answered; and, remarking her agitation, changed the subject at once. "Have you been trouting, Laurence?" he asked. "I remember your old passion."
"I was out the other day, but we will go again—an expedition for the ladies. Are you fond of trout-fishing, Miss Chase?"
"Yes; I must plead guilty to the weakness and cruelty."
"And you, Margaret?"
"I shall like to go; but I never have any success."