breeding in
it. All the more, Diana felt the sense of fun it expressed, and
hastened to change the scene and put an end to the colloquy. She threw
down her bonnet and went for a handful of sticks. Mr. Knowlton had got
his match by this time. Mrs. Starling stood astonished and scornful.

"Will this be wood enough?" Diana asked.

Mr. Knowlton replied by taking the sticks out of her hand, and led the
way into the meadow. Diana followed, very quiet and flushed. He had not
said a word; yet the manner of that little action had a whole small
volume in it. "Nobody else ever cared whether I had sticks in my hands
or not," thought Diana; and she flushed more and more. She turned her
face away from the bright west, which threw too much illumination on
it; and looked down into the brook. The brook's song sounded now
unheard.

It was on the border of the brook that Lieut. Knowlton made his fire.
He was in a very jubilant sort of mood. The fire was made, and the fish
were washed; and Diana stood by the column of smoke in the meadow and
looked on, as still as a mouse. And Mrs. Starling stood in the door of
the lean-to and looked on too, from a distance; and if she was still,
it was because she had no one near just then to whom it was safe to
open her mind. The beauty of the picture was all lost upon her: the
shorn meadow, the soft column of ascending smoke coloured in dainty
hues from the glowing western sky, the two figures moving about it.

"Now, Miss Diana," said the young officer. "If we had a little salt,
and a dish--I am afraid to go and ask Mrs. Starling for them!"

Perhaps so was she; but Diana went, and got them without asking. She
smiled at the dishing of the trout, it was so cleverly done; then she
was requested to sprinkle salt on them herself; and then with a
satisfied air, which somehow called up a flush in Diana's cheeks again,
Mr. Knowlton marched off to the house with the dish in his hands. Mrs.
Starling had given her farm labourers their supper, and was clearing
away relics from the board. She made no move of welcome or hospitable
invitation; but Diana hastened to remove the traces of disorder, and
set clean plates and cups, and bring fresh butter, and bread, and make
fresh tea. How very pleasant, and how extremely unpleasant, it was
altogether!

"Mother," she said, when all was ready, "won't you come and taste Mr.
Knowlton's fish?"

"I guess I know how fish taste. I haven't eaten the trout of that brook
all