ow, and
she yielded gently a little to the pressure on the sail, tipped herself
gracefully a little over, and began to cleave her way through the
rippling water in good earnest. Then how the waves sparkled! how cheery
the movement was! how delicious the summer air over the water! although,
the sun was throwing down his beams with great power already and the,
day promised to be sultrily hot.

"It is going to be intense," said Mrs. Randolph.

"Melting!"--said Mrs. Gary.

"You will have enough of it before the end of the day--" remarked Mr.
Sandford. Mr. Sandford was a good-humoured looking gentleman, with a
sensible face and black whiskers; but he was a gentleman, and Daisy
approved of him. He was very unlike his brother. His wife was a very
plain person, in feature, and not very talkative; letting her husband do
that for her; but kindly and pleasant nevertheless; and Daisy approved
of her too.

"At what hour do you expect the day _will_ end, practically?" inquired
Mrs. Randolph of her husband. He smiled.

"I should say--judging from present tokens--not till the sun gets well
down on his western way."

"First-rate!" said Preston aside. "We'll have a good time for fishing."

"But that will make it very late crossing the river, Mr. Randolph? will
it not?"

"It may."

"There is a moon," said Mrs. Sandford.

"Moon! I hope we are not to be beholden to the moon's good offices!"
exclaimed the other lady. "It is only ten o'clock now--not that. We
shall be tired to death of the woods before we have done with them."

"You must try fishing, aunt Felicia," said Preston.

"Yes--a good idea," remarked Mr. Sandford. "I do not know how the ladies
can get along without some sport--ha, ha! There is a boat on the
lake--isn't there?"

"They say so," Mr. Randolph returned. "I have not been there for a long
time."

"Then I shall take the charge of your entertainment, Mrs. Randolph," Mr.
Sandford went on. "I shall persuade you to put yourself under my
guidance, and let me initiate you into the mysteries of pickerel
catching."

"I do not think you can persuade me out of the shade--if once I get in
it again--" said the lady.

"Why mamma," said Ransom, "pickerel fishing is splendid!"

Mr. Randolph looked at Daisy. No heat nor shadow too much for her! With
one hand clasped in Nora's, her little face was a pattern of perfect
content; nay, it was full of delighted joy. Mr. Randolph thought he
could endure his portion of the he