the additional two were Stuart
Nightingale and Miss Annabella Powder. Now the fishing rods
were put into the ladies' hands; now the cavaliers attentively
supplied their hooks with what was supposed to be bait, and
performing afterwards the same office for their own, the brook
presently had the appearance, or would to a bird's-eye view,
of a brook in toils.

'What do we expect to catch, sir?' asked Miss Kennedy of Mr.
Lasalle, as she watched his motions and dropped her own line
in imitation.

'If I were a member of the firm, I should say, "all hearts,"
mademoiselle, without doubt.'

'For shame, Mr. Lasalle!' cried Miss Powder.

'Fish are made to be caught, mademoiselle,' said Mr. Lasalle,
throwing his own line again.

'For shame, Mr. Lasalle! How many hearts do you think one lady
wishes to catch?'

'No limit that I know'--said the gentleman serenely.

'Well, but--are there no other fish in this brook?' said Wych
Hazel.

'Miss Kennedy makes small account of the first kind,' said
Stuart, laughing. 'That sport is old already. There must be
difficulty to give interest, Lasalle, you know.'

'You gentlemen are complimentary,' said Miss Powder.

'Upon my word, I said what I thought,' replied the first
gentleman.

'Miss Kennedy,' called Stuart out from his post down the
brook; 'should compliments be true or false, to be
compliments? Miss Powder is too indignant to be judge in the
case.'

'I do not see how false ones can compliment,' said the lady in
green, much intent upon her line. 'There!--Mr. Lasalle--is that
what you call a bite?'

It was no bite.

'But people need not know they are false?' pursued Stuart.

'Well,' said Wych Hazel, looking down at him, 'you were
talking of what things _are_--not what they seem.'

'You may observe,' said Mr. Lasalle, 'that most people find it
amusing to get bites--if only they don't know there's no fish
at the end of them.' Mr. Lasalle spoke feelingly, for he had
just hooked and drawn up what proved to be a bunch of weeds.

'But where there is,' said Wych hazel. 'There! Mr. Lasalle, I
have got your fish!' and swung up a glittering trophy high
over the gentleman's head.

'The first fish caught, I'll wager!' cried Stuart; and he
looked at his watch. 'Twenty-seven minutes past twelve. Was
that skill or fortune, Miss Kennedy?'

'Neither, sir,' observed Mr. Simms, who had wandered that way
in search of a hook. 'There was no hope of Miss Kennedy's
descending to the be