Diana. Warner Susan

want you to keep still; that would be very stupid for me."

      "You can't talk while you are fishing; it would scare the trout, you know."

      "I don't believe it."

      "I have always heard so."

      "I don't believe it will pay," said Knowlton as he fitted his rod – "if

      I am to purchase trout at the expense of all that."

      All what? Diana wondered.

      "Suppose we talk very softly – in whispers," he went on, laughing. "Do you suppose the trout are so observant as to mind it? If you sit here, – on this mossy stone, close by me, can't I enjoy two things at once?"

      Diana made no objection to this arrangement. She took the place indicated, full of a breathless kind of pleasure which she did not stop to analyze; and watched in silence the progress of the fishing. In silence, for after Mr. Knowlton's arrangement had been carried into effect, he too subsided into stillness; whether engrossed with the business of his line, or satisfied, or with thoughts otherwise engaged, did not appear. But as presently and again a large trout, speckled and beautiful, was swung up out of the pool below, the two faces were turned towards each other, and the two pairs of eyes met with a smile of so much sympathy, that I rather think the temporary absence of words lost nothing to the growth of the understanding between them.

      The place where they sat was lovely. Just there the bank was high, overhanging the brook. A projecting rock, brown and green and grey, with lichen and mosses of various kinds, held besides a delicate young silver birch, the roots of which found their way to nourishment somehow through fissures in the rock. Here sat Knowlton, with Diana beside him on a stone, just a little behind; while he sat on the brink to cast, or rather drop, his line into the little pool below where the trout were lurking. The opposite side of the stream was but a few yards off, thick with a lovely growth of young wood, with one great hemlock not far above towering up towards the sky. The view in that direction went up a vista of the ravine, so wood-fringed on both sides, with the stream leaping and tumbling down a steep rocky bed. Overhead the narrow line of blue sky.

      "Four!" whispered Diana, as another spotted trout came up from the pool.

      "I wonder how many there are down there?" said Knowlton as he unhooked the fish. "It makes me hungry."

      "Catching the trout?" said Diana softly.

      He nodded. "Here comes another. I wish we could make a fire somewhere hereabouts and cook them."

      "Is that a good way?"

      "The best in the world," he said, adjusting his fly, and then looking with a smile at her. "There is no way that fish taste so good. I used to do that, you see, in the hills round about the Academy; and I know all about it."

      "We could make a fire," said Diana; "but we have no gridiron here."

      "I had no gridiron there. Couldn't have carried a gridiron in my pocket if I had had one. Here's another" —

      "You had not a gridiron, of course."

      "Nor a pocket either."

      "But did you eat the trout all alone? without bread, I mean, or anything?"

      "No; we took bread and salt, and pepper and butter, and a few such things. There were generally a lot of us; or if only two or three we could manage that. The butter was the worst thing to accomplish – Here's another!"

      "Such beauties!" said Diana. "Well, Mr. Knowlton, if you get too hungry, we'll cook you one at home, you know."

      "Will you?" said he. "I wish we had salt and bread here! I should like to show you how wood cookery goes, though. But I'll tell you! we'll get Mrs. Starling to let us have it out in the meadow – that won't be bad."

      Diana thought of her mother's utter astonishment and disapprobation at such a proposal; and there was silence again for a few minutes, while the line hung motionless over the pool, and Diana's eyes watched it movelessly, and the liquid sweetness of the water's talk with the stones was heard, – as one hears things when the senses are strung to double keenness. Diana heard it, at least, and listened to something in it she had never perceived before; something not only sweet and liquid and musical, but in some odd sense admonitory. What did it say? Diana hardly questioned, but yet she heard, – "My peace never changes. My song never dies. Listen, or not listen, it is all the same. You may be in twenty moods in a year. In my depth of content I flow on for ever."

      A slight rustling of leaves, a slight crackling of stems or branches, brought the eyes of both watchers in another direction; and before they could hear a footfall, they saw, above them on the course of the brook, a figure of a man coming towards them, and Diana knew it was the minister. Swiftly and lightly he came swinging himself along, bounding over obstacles, with a sure foot and a strong hand; till presently he stood beside them. Just then Mr. Knowlton's line was swung up with another trout. Diana introduced the gentlemen to each other.

      "Fishing?" said the minister.

      "We have got all there are in this place, I'm thinking," said Knowlton, shutting up his rod.

      "You had not, two minutes ago," said the other. "What do you judge from? It doesn't do to be so easily discouraged as that."

      "Discouraged?" said Knowlton. "Not exactly. Let us see. Four, five, six – seven – eight. Eight, out of this little one pool, Mr. Masters. Do you think there are any more?"

      "I always get all I can out of a thing," said the minister. And his very cheery tone, as well as his very quiet manner, seemed to say he was in the habit of getting a good deal out of everything.

      "I don't know about that," answered the young officer in another tone. "Doesn't always pay. To stay too long at one pool of a brook, for instance. The brook has other pools, I suppose."

      "I suppose it has," said the minister, with a manner which would have puzzled any but one that knew him, to tell whether he were in jest or earnest. "I suppose it has. But you may not find them. Or by the time you do, you may have lost your bait. Or you may be tired of fishing. Or it may be time to go home."

      "I am never tired," said Knowlton, springing up; "and I have got a guide that will not let me miss my way."

      "You are fortunate," said the other. "And I will not occupy your time.

      Good afternoon! I shall hope to see more of you."

      With a warm grasp of the young officer's hand, and lifting his hat to Diana, the minister went on his way. Diana looked after him, wondering why he had not shaken hands with her too. It was something she was a little sorry to miss.

      "Who is that?" Knowlton asked.

      "Mr. Masters? He's our minister."

      "What sort of a chap is he? Not like all the rest of them?"

      "How are all the rest of them?" Diana asked.

      "I declare, I don't know!" said Knowlton. "If I was to tell the truth, I should say they puzzle all my wits. See 'em in one place – and hear 'em – and you would say they thought all the business of this world was of no account, nor the pleasure of it either. See 'em anywhere else, and they are just as much of this world as you are – or as I am, I mean. They change as fast as a chameleon. In the light that comes through a church window, now, they'll be blue enough, and make you think blue's the only wear – or black; but once outside, and they like the colour that comes through a glass of wine or anything also that's jolly. One thing or the other they don't mean – that's plain."

      "Which do you think they don't mean?" said Diana.

      "Well, they're two or three hours in church, and the rest of the week outside. I believe what they say the rest of the time."

      "I don't think Mr. Masters is like that."

      "What is he like, then?"

      "I think he means exactly what he says."

      "Exactly," said the young officer, laughing; "but which part of the time, you know?"

      "All times. I think he means just the same thing always."

      "Must see more of him," said Knowlton. "You like him, then, Miss

      Starling?"

      Diana