ore for him. When he had finished with
this late lunch, Lady Adela begged him to excuse them if they left him
to shift for himself; they were busy dressmaking, she said. Would she
send for one of the keepers, who would show him one or two of the
nearest pools, so that he might try for a salmon? The gentlemen had all
gone down the strath, to test some new rifle, she thought; this was out
of consideration for her, for she could not bear shooting close to the
house; would he walk in that direction, and see what they were doing?

"Don't you trouble," he said, instantly. "You leave me to myself. I like
to wander about and find out my surroundings. I shall go down to the
river, to begin with; I saw some picturesque bits higher up when we were
coming along."

"You'll almost certainly find Honnor Cunyngham there," said Miss
Lestrange. "I suppose she has gone storking, as usual."

"Stalking?" said he, in some amazement.

"No, no--storking, as I call it. She haunts the side of the river like a
crane or a heron," said the red-haired damsel. "I think she would rather
land a salmon than go to heaven."

"Georgie," said the young matron, severely, "you are not likely ever to
do either; so you needn't be spiteful. Come away and get to work. Mr.
Moore, we dine at eight; and, if you are anywhere up or down the strath,
you'll hear the bell over the stables rung at seven, and then at
half-past."

So they went off and left him; and he was not displeased; he passed out
by the front door, lit a cigar, and strolled down towards the banks of
the Aivron. It was a bright and sweet-aired afternoon; he was glad to be
at the end of his journey; and this was a very charming, if somewhat
lonely, stretch of country in which he now found himself. The wide
river, the steep hillside beyond hanging in foliage, the valley
narrowing in among rocks and then leading away up to those far solitudes
of moorland and heather, broken only here and there by a single
pine--all these features of the landscape seemed so clear and fine in
color; there was no intervening haze; everything was vivid and
singularly distinct, and yet aerial and harmonious and retiring of hue.
But of course it was the stream--with its glancing lights, its living
change and motion, its murmuring, varying voice--that was the chief
attraction; and he wandered on by the side of it, noting here and there
the long, rippling shallows where the sun struck golden on the sand
beneath, watching th