“Yes; but you won’t mind my coaching you?”
“Oh, no!”
“Then, use your arms and wrist in the cast. Don’t try to put too much force in it. There, that is better—so.”
She went on casting, a little troubled by the critical watchfulness of the curly head below her, for Carington had thrown his cap at his feet and sat bare-headed. At last, in the second drop, a fish rose.
“Didn’t you see him?”
“No.”
“He rose. Wait a little. He lies on a line with that cedar. Now, again. They are in rising mood to-day. I rose six here this morning, and then left the pool, so as not to exhaust their curiosity.”
“That was to leave me the chance,” thought Rose.
“There, Miss Lyndsay; he was pretty eager that time.
“A rise to a Rose seems grammatically improbable,” he murmured, laughing outright at his own nonsense, and happy enough to be easily silly.