perhaps, indeed, familiar
success had rendered him callous; at all events, he had managed to get
along so far without encountering any violent experience of heart-aching
desire and disappointment and despair. But this young lady, with the
clear, fine, intellectual face, the proud lips, the calm, observant
eyes, puzzled him--almost vexed him. Nina, for example, was a far more
sympathetic companion; either she was enthusiastically happy, talkative,
vivacious, gay as a lark, or she was wilfully sullen and offended, to be
coaxed round again and petted, like a spoiled child, until the natural
sunshine of her humor came through those wayward clouds. But Miss
Cunyngham, while always friendly and pleasant, remained (as he thought)
strangely remote, imperturbable, calm. She did not seem to care about
his society at all. Perhaps she would rather have him go up the
hill?--though the birds were getting very wild now for a novice. In any
case, she could not refuse to let him accompany her on the morning after
his deer-stalking expedition; for all the story had to be told her.

"I suppose you are very stiff," she said, cheerfully, as they left the
lodge--he walking heavily in waders and brogues--old Robert coming up
behind with rod and gaff. "But I should imagine you do not ask for much
sympathy. Shall I tell you what you are thinking of at this moment? You
have a vague fear that the foxes may have got at that precious animal
during the night; and you are anxious to see it safely down here at the
lodge; and you want to have the head sent at once to Mr. Macleay's in
Inverness, so that it mayn't get mixed up with the lot of others which
will be coming in when the driving in the big forests begins. Isn't that
about it?"

"You are a witch," said he, "or else you have been deer-stalking
yourself. But, you know, Miss Honnor, it's all very well to go on an
expedition like that of yesterday once in a way--as a piece of bravado,
almost; and no doubt you are very proud when you see the dead stag lying
on the heather before you; but I am not sure I should ever care for it
as a continuous occupation, even if I were likely to have the chance.
The excitement is too furious, too violent. But look at a day by the
side of a salmon river!" continued this adroit young man. "There is
absolute rest and peace--except when you are engaged in fighting a
salmon; and, for my own part, that is not necessary to my enjoyment at
all. No; I would rather see you f