first I slept too
soundly."

"What did you find to do?" Mrs. Morres asked.

"Fish. There are plenty of trout in the upper reaches of the river."

They found their lunch of cold roast beef and salad, rhubarb tart and
cream, delicious. The landlord had some good old claret in his cellar
and produced it as though Sir Robin were an honoured guest. They sat to
the meal by an open window. There were wallflowers under the window. In
a bowl on the table were hyacinths and sweet-smelling narcissi.

After the meal Mrs. Morres was tired. "Let me rest," she said, "till
tea-time. What did you say was the train? Five-thirty? Will you order
tea for half-past four? It is half-past two now. Go and explore the
woods. I believe I shall go asleep if I'm allowed. The buzzing of the
bees out there is a drowsy sound."

Mary voted for walking up-stream, and confessed to a passion for
tracking rivers to their sources. They stepped out briskly. She was
wearing a long cloak of grey-blue cloth, which became her. Presently she
took it off and carried it on her arm. Her frock beneath repeated the
colour of the cloak. It had a soft fichu about the neck of yellowed
muslin, with a pattern of little roses. He looked at her with
admiration. He knew as little about clothes as most men, and, like most
men, he loved blue. She did well to wear blue on such a day. The grey of
her eyes took on the blue of her garments, a blue slightly silvered,
like the blue of the April sky.

As the ground ascended, the stream brawled and leaped over little
boulders green with the water-stain and lichens. There were quiet pools
beside the boulders. As they stood by one they saw the fin of a trout in
the obscurity.

They met no one. Presently they were higher than the woods and out on a
green hillside. When they first appeared the place was alive with
rabbits, who hurried to their burrows with a flash of white scuts.

"If we sit down on the hillside we can see the valley," Sir Robin said.
"We can look down into the valley at our leisure. It is filled with a
golden haze. This good sun is drawing out the winter damps. You shall
have my coat to sit on. Wasn't I far-seeing to bring it?"

He spread the coat, which he had been carrying on his arm, for Mary, and
she sat down on the very edge of the incline. The St. Bernard laid his
silver and russet head on her skirt. They had lost sight of the river
now. It had retired into the woods. When they sat down Sir Robin
consulte