"Yes, please."
There was plenty of life and fight in the old trout. He no sooner felt that water was somewhere under him than he gave a triumphant, indignant flop, tore himself from Merrivale's hands, and disappeared with a splendid, smacking splash.
"Good old boy!" laughed Merrivale.
"And yet," said Gay, "it's a pity that we couldn't take him back to camp and show him off. He was the biggest trout I ever saw."
"He wasn't a trout, dear," said Merrivale; and he grinned lovingly at her. "He was a char."
"Of course he was," said Gay humbly; "I forgot."
[XXXVI]
I wish I could write first, "The Seven Darlings lived happily ever afterward," and then the word "Finis." But I cannot end so easily and maintain a reputation for veracity. They can't have lived happily afterward until they are dead—can they? At the moment they have just closed The Camp after the summer and scattered to their winter homes; that is, all of them except Gay.