A second glance showed her that it was Manfred, Stead’s horse, with bridle fastened loosely to the saddle, while a fishing basket attached to one side easily explained his presence. Seeing Brooke, he came quickly toward her with a friendly whinny and nosed the apple. Almost at the same time Robert Stead himself, in the water to the knees, slowly wading the somewhat treacherous shallows, and whipping the stream as he came, appeared from under the arch of overhanging hemlocks. For a moment he did not seem to believe the sight of his own eyes, and then, rapidly reeling in his line, he looked out for the nearest landing spot and stood before Brooke, with an expression that might be interpreted either as one of surprise or resentment at having his sport thus interrupted. But then he had acquired a stern expression by practice. Brooke had often before thought he wore it as a mask, and his words were not angry, but almost playful. “Eve, the apple, and a bit of Eden! But how did you come here and what are you doing?” “_Not_ Eve, because, as you will observe, I am not going to offer my apple to the only man in sight, but share it with a good sensible horse, who will not tell tales. I came up to the farm last night with Mr. Banks, the pieman, to see the woodcock dance, and I’m waiting here while he buys a cow for Sister-in-law Sairy Ann. As to what I am doing, I _was_ eating an apple, but Manfred interrupted me; and now I’m going to begin another, and I’m very sorry that your simile prevents my offering one to you,—for they’re good,” and Brooke took a bite from a particularly fine specimen, a mischievous glance following her words. Stead tethered the horse a few yards away and, coming back, threw himself down on the clean hemlock needles beside her. He felt suddenly relaxed, tired he would have called it, as if rigidity and strength had mysteriously left him. “And you?” continued Brooke, “I see of course that you are fishing, by the two small trout in the basket; but how do you come to be so far away from home at eight in the morning, when Adam said that Dr. Russell was to visit you to-day?” “Because Dr. Russell came on the mail train last night and is now whipping the west branch of the stream; in this narrow cut we interfered, and we shall meet a mile below at Stony Guzzle in the course of an hour.” “Then you had better take to the water again, for I heard them saying last night that this stream takes two steps sideways for every one it goes forward, and that gives you a three-mile walk plus fishing!” said Brooke, with a perfectly frank unconcern that piqued the man to natural contradiction. “Thank you for your prudent advice, but I would rather sit here, for once simply because I wish to, and trust to Manfred’s hoofs for catching up with the doctor!” “Do you not always do what you wish?” asked Brooke, surprised at his changing mood, and feeling her way.