At that moment Grace and Hugh Estill came up, and proposed that they should repair to the river, near by, and spend an hour fishing; so they soon were seated under the shade of an enormous cottonwood-tree on the banks of a deep pool, while Hugh and Grace, who had been introduced at some former meeting, strayed along the stream in quest of a "better place," which they did not discover in sight or hearing of Miss Estill and Clifford.
After casting their hooks into the quiet water, they sat down upon the shady bank, and Miss Estill said:—
"Hugh has often spoken of you lately, and we had discussed the subject of calling on your sister and Miss Moreland, but decided that we would send you an invitation to our picnic, at which I hoped to become acquainted with them." Then, seeing a shade of disappointment flit over his face, she added, archly: "And you also. But I assure you that the call will not be deferred a great while longer; for I am delighted to find such charming girls for neighbors."
"The invitation was very kind and thoughtful of you, Miss Estill. We had been longing to meet congenial companions, and hailed the news of the picnic with all the delight of people who have been isolated from society for a year or more. I hope you will believe it is no vain compliment when I tell you that I have already met new friends here that I value higher than any of my old ones," Clifford replied, as he knotted a bunch of elder-bloom, snowy and fragrant, with the blossoms of the wild heart's-ease, azure and gold, which grew on the sandy stretch at their feet. Then, adding a fern-like tuft of meadow-fescue, he held it toward Miss Estill, while a look of undisguised admiration shone in his clear blue eyes, saying:—
"In memory of my deep gratitude."
Fastening the flowers among the meshes of lace on her breast, she busied herself a moment with the fishing-tackle as she drew the hook from the water with a dangerous movement. Then, with a smile dimpling her face, she said:—
"If you feel such a deep sense of gratitude, Mr. Warlow, you may discharge the debt by baiting my hook, which some wary turtle or other aquatic creature, has been investigating."
With ready alacrity, Clifford performed the desired service; and as he let go the hook, Miss Estill began a series of manœuvres with the fish-pole that were as womanly as they were threatening. Finally, after the hook had performed for some time around his head with a dangerous "s-w-i-s-h," it fortunately landed plump into the water, with a thud and splash loud enough to scare all the fish upon dry land.
They stood a moment, silently watching the widening ripple; then, as they seated themselves on the bank again, Miss Estill said, with a smile:—
"You are very brave, indeed, Mr. Warlow, never to wince. But perhaps you were not aware of the great risk a man runs who fishes with a woman. I never should have forgiven myself if that awkward hook had caught in your eye."