knew how to wait; and
when, after sitting for six hours, a modest barbel, taking pity
on him, consented at last to be caught, he was happy--but he knew
how to control his emotion.

On this day the two lovers--one might say, the two betrothed--
were seated upon the verdant bank. The limpid Vaar murmured a few
feet below them. Suzel quietly drew her needle across the canvas.
Frantz automatically carried his line from left to right, then
permitted it to descend the current from right to left. The fish
made capricious rings in the water, which crossed each other
around the cork, while the hook hung useless near the bottom.

From time to time Frantz would say, without raising his eyes,--

"I think I have a bite, Suzel."

"Do you think so, Frantz?" replied Suzel, who, abandoning her
work for an instant, followed her lover's line with earnest eye.

"N-no," resumed Frantz; "I thought I felt a little twitch; I was
mistaken."

"You _will_ have a bite, Frantz," replied Suzel, in her pure,
soft voice. "But do not forget to strike at the right moment. You
are always a few seconds too late, and the barbel takes advantage
to escape."

"Would you like to take my line, Suzel?"

"Willingly, Frantz."

"Then give me your canvas. We shall see whether I am more adroit
with the needle than with the hook."

And the young girl took the line with trembling hand, while her
swain plied the needle across the stitches of the embroidery. For
hours together they thus exchanged soft words, and their hearts
palpitated when the cork bobbed on the water. Ah, could they ever
forget those charming hours, during which, seated side by side,
they listened to the murmurs of the river?

[Illustration: the young girl took the line]

The sun was fast approaching the western horizon, and despite the
combined skill of Suzel and Frantz, there had not been a bite.
The barbels had not shown themselves complacent, and seemed to
scoff at the two young people, who were too just to bear them
malice.

"We shall be more lucky another time, Frantz," said Suzel, as the
young angler put up his still virgin hook.

"Let us hope so," replied Frantz.

Then walking side by side, they turned their steps towards the
house, without exchanging a word, as mute as their shadows which
stretched out before them. Suzel became very, very tall under the
oblique rays of the setting sun. Frantz appeared very, very thin,
like the long rod which he held in his hand.

They