“Uncle! Pray!” whispered the niece, looking troubled; but the old man only chuckled and hooked another fish.
“Going to make a fortune out of the old mine, Leslie?” he said.
“Fortune? No, sir. A fair income, I hope.”
“Which with prudence and economy—Scottish prudence and economy,” he added, meaningly, “would keep you when you got to be an old man like me. Bah!”
He snatched out his line and gave an impatient stamp with his foot.
“What is the matter, uncle?”
“What’s the matter? It was bad enough before. Look there?”