He wanted all the help he could get; and he saw that the Twins would be useful friends in the matter. But did they chance on him walking with their mother, or at tea with her, they held politely but gloomily aloof. He must abate their hostility.
He contrived, therefore, to meet them on the common as they were starting one afternoon on an expedition, greeted them cheerfully, stopped and said: “I’m awfully sorry I gave you away the other day. But I never saw your mother till I’d done it.”
“Don’t mention it,” said the Terror with cold graciousness.
“So you ought to be,” said Erebus.
“It’s a pity you should lose your fishing. If I’d known how good you both were at it, I should have given you leave when I got your letter,” said Sir James hypocritically. “But I was misinformed about you.”
“It’s worse that mother should lose the trout. She does hate butcher’s meat so, and it is so difficult to get her to eat properly,” said Erebus in a somewhat mollified tone.
“It’s like that, is it?” said Sir James quickly; and an expression of deep concern filled his face.
“Yes, and she did eat those trout,” said Erebus plaintively.
Sir James knitted his brow in frowning thought; and the Twins watched him with little hope in their faces. Of a sudden his brow grew smooth; and he said:
“Look here: you mayn’t fish my water; but there’s no reason why you shouldn’t fish Glazebrook’s. I think that a man who nets his water loses all rights.”