“When did you ask him?”
“About ten minutes ago, just before I came downstairs. I told him two good stories and then shot it in quick. He said he thought it would do you good!”
“I like your nerve! Why didn’t you ask me first?”
“Because it was much more proper for me to open negotiations with the man higher up. I hope you appreciate my delicacy,” he added, in Eaton’s familiar, half-mocking tone, which he had caught perfectly.
“You’re so thoughtful I suppose you’ve also arranged for a chaperone?”
“The canoe,” he replied, “is more comfortable for two.”
“Two have been in it rather often, I suppose.”
“Yes; but that was last summer. I’ve seen everything different this season. I practiced casting on a day in June and met with an experience that has changed the whole current of my life.”
“I hope it changed your luck with the rod! You got snagged on everything that would hold a hook, but I must say that you bore your troubles in a sweet spirit.”
“I learned that early in the game. Even if you refused my invitation I’d try to bear up under it.”