e invitation in
the most matter-of-fact manner, which created an impression in
Charlie's mind that Narcisse, perhaps, after all, only cared for
Jessie in a brotherly way.

Both Charlie and Narcisse soon got the reputation of being devoted
disciples of Izaak Walton. They were to be seen every day wandering
down to the river with divers devices to allure and entrap
unsuspecting fish. Their success in being able to catch little or
nothing soon caused much merriment among the boarders where they
stayed. Of course, none of the scoffers knew that a very generous
portion of the time that these ardent fishermen were supposed to be
employing in catching fish, was spent lying on the broad of their
backs on the fresh green grass discussing the virtues of the
blue-eyed, vivacious young woman with whom the reader is already
acquainted. Very naturally the young fishermen did not deem it their
duty to enlighten the boarders as to how they spent their time.

Three evenings a week, no matter what the weather was, they dressed up
in their best suits and visited the little whitewashed cottage. It
would have taken a very keen observer to decide which of the young men
she cared the most for, or whether, indeed, she had any tender feeling
for either of them. Both were always given a most cordial welcome. If,
however, Charlie had been a very close observer--which was unfair to
expect at such a time--he might, perhaps, have noticed that at long
intervals she stole a rapid glance at Narcisse when she knew his head
was turned away from her--a gentle, caressing look that either of them
would have been delighted to intercept.

The weeks fled rapidly by, and the month's vacation drew to a close.
Strange to say, for over a week neither of them had mentioned the trip
to the west. They went fishing together as usual, but her name very
rarely passed their lips now. Just exactly how the change had come
about neither of them could tell, but something had come between them.
The little cloud at first was promptly banished, and they tried to be
friendlier than ever. But the cloud was persistent, and returned again
and again, and each time it was harder to overthrow. At first it was
not larger than a man's hand, but before the month had elapsed it had
grown so that it had well-nigh separated them. They both secretly
mourned over the estrangement. They both well knew the birthplace of
the cloud--the little whitewashed cottage. Several times Charlie
genero