aboratories. Even while he was
speaking those few words, Alicia's face changed just as I had seen
it change at our first interview. The downcast, gloomy expression
overspread it again. Her father's eye wandered toward her when mine
did, and suddenly assumed the same distrustful look which I remembered
detecting in it, under similar circumstances, at Duskydale. What could
this mean?

The doctor shook hands with me in the hall, leaving the workman-like
footman to open the door.

I stopped to admire a fine pair of stag's antlers. The footman coughed
impatiently. I still lingered, hearing the doctor's footsteps ascending
the stairs. They suddenly stopped; and then there was a low heavy
clang, like the sound of a closing door made of iron, or of some other
unusually strong material; then total silence, interrupted by another
impatient cough from the workman-like footman. After that, I thought my
wisest proceeding would be to go away before my mysterious attendant was
driven to practical extremities.

Between thoughts of Alicia, and inquisitive yearnings to know more about
the doctor's experiments, I passed rather a restless night at my inn.

The next morning, I found the lovely mistress of my destiny, with the
softest of shawls on her shoulders, the brightest of parasols in her
hand, and the smart little straw hat of the day before on her head,
ready to show me the way to the fishing-place. If I could be sure
beforehand that these pages would only be read by persons actually
occupied in the making of love--that oldest and longest-established of
all branches of manufacturing industry--I could go into some very tender
and interesting particulars on the subject of my first day's fishing,
under the adorable auspices of Alicia. But as I cannot hope for a wholly
sympathetic audience--as there may be monks, misogynists, political
economists, and other professedly hard-hearted persons present among
those whom I now address--I think it best to keep to safe generalities,
and to describe my love-making in as few sentences as the vast, though
soft, importance of the subject will allow me to use.

Let me confess, then, that I assumed the character of a fastidious
angler, and managed to be a week in discovering the right place to fish
in--always, it is unnecessary to say, under Alicia's guidance. We went
up the stream and down the stream, on one side. We crossed the bridge,
and went up the stream and down the stream on the other. We