fish?"

"No. I never tried."

"Well, trout fishing is not exactly a thing that comes by nature. I
must go up that brook. I wish you would go and show me the way. When I
see anything pretty, I always want some one to point it out to, or I
can't half enjoy it."

"I think it would be the other way," said Diana. "I should be the one
to show the brook to you."

"You see if I don't make you find more pretty things than you ever knew
were there. Come! is it a bargain? I'll take my line and bring Mrs.
Starling some trout."

"When?" said Diana.

"Seems to me," said Mrs. Starling, "I could keep along a brook if I
could once get hold of it."

"Ah," said Mr. Knowlton, laughing, "you are a great deal cleverer than
I am. You have no idea how fast I can lose myself. Miss Diana, the
sooner the better, while this lovely weather lasts. Shall we say
to-morrow?"

"I'll be ready," said Diana.

"This weather ain't goin' to change in a hurry," remarked Mrs. Starling.

But the remark did not seem to be to the purpose. The appointment was
made for the following day at three o'clock; and Mr. Knowlton's visit
having come to an end, he mounted and galloped away.

"Three o'clock!" said Mrs. Starling. "Just the heat o' the day. And
trout, indeed! Don't you be a silly fish yourself, Diana."

"Mother!" said Diana. "I couldn't help going, when he asked me."

"You could ha' helped it if you'd wanted to, I s'pose."

Which was no doubt true, and Diana made no response; for she wanted to
go. She watched the golden promise of dawn the next morning; she
watched the cloudless vault of the sky, and secretly rejoiced within
herself that she would be ready.

CHAPTER VI.

MR. KNOWLTON'S FISH.

Doubtless they were ready, those two, for the brook and the afternoon.
The young officer came at half-past three; not in regimentals this
time, but in an easy grey undress and straw hat. He came in a waggon,
and he brought his fishing-rod and carried a basket. Diana had been
ready ever since three. They lost no time; they went out into the
meadow and struck the brook.

Now the brook, during its passage through the valley field, was
remarkable for nothing but a rare infirmity of purpose, which would
never let it keep one course for many rods together. It twisted and
curled about, making many little meadow promontories on one side and
the other; hurrying along with a soft, sweet gurgle that sounded fresh,
even under the heat of the summer