ss; I don't believe there is anything in the whole range
of physic to cure that. What's this--a fishing-rod?"

"Yes," said Mr. Stanford, taking a more comfortable position on the
grass. "I thought I would try my luck this fine afternoon, but somehow I
don't seem to progress very fast."

"I should think not, indeed. Let me see what I can do."

Reginald watched him lazily, as he dropped the line into the placid
water.

"What do you think about it yourself?" he asked, after a pause.

"About what?"

"This new alliance on the tapis. He's a very nice little fellow, I have
no doubt; but if I were a pretty girl, I don't think I should like nice
little fellows. He is just the last sort of a man in the world I could
fancy our bright Rose marrying."

"Of course he is! It's a failing of the sex to marry the very last man
their friends would expect. But are you quite sure in this case; no
April day was ever more changeable than Rose Danton."

"I don't know what you mean. They'll be married to a dead certainty."

"What will you bet on the event?"

"I'm not rich enough to bet; but if I were, it wouldn't be honourable,
you know."

Doctor Frank gave him a queer look, as he hooked a fish out of the
water.

"Oh, if it becomes a question of honour, I have no more to say. Do you
see this fellow wriggling on my hook?"

"Yes."

"Well, when this fish swims again, Rose Danton will be Mrs. La Touche,
and you know it."

He said the last words so significantly, and with such a look, that all
the blood of all the Stanfords rushed red to Reginald's face.

"The deuce take your inuendoes!" he exclaimed. "What do you mean?"

"Don't ask me," said Doctor Frank. "I hate to tell a lie: and I won't
say what I suspect. Suppose we change the subject. Where is Sir Ronald
Keith?"

"In New Brunswick, doing the wild-woods and shooting bears. Poor wretch!
With all his eight thousand a year, and that paradise in Scotland, Glen
Keith, I don't envy him. I never saw anyone so hopelessly hard hit as
he."

"You're a fortunate fellow, Stanford; but I doubt if you know it. Sir
Ronald would be a far happier man in your place."

The face of the young Englishman darkened suddenly.

"Perhaps there is such a thing as being too fortunate, and getting
satiated. I wish I could be steadfast, and firm, and faithful forever to
one thing, like some men, but I can't. Sir Ronald's one of that kind,
and so are you, Danton; but I--"

He threw his cigar into