He had not intended to say so much. She did not stop to consider what she was implying. Both blushed, relapsed into silence, and picked fruit assiduously for several moments, before beginning again-- "I am afraid this picnic will be a great bore to you." "Indeed, I think it is going to be a pleasure. I should have thought of it before, but that sort of thing does not come easily to me. I have lived too much alone!" "You have your work--you have been absorbed in your work." "Have I? I'm afraid that is not altogether true!" Margot glanced up surprised, met the dark eyes fixed full upon her, and looked hurriedly away. "I have been finding it increasingly difficult to be absorbed," he continued dreamily. "I have heard you all laughing and talking together downstairs, and my thoughts have wandered. Once you sang... Do you remember that wet afternoon when you sang? I did not seem able to write at all that afternoon." The basket was full of fruit by now; Margot lifted it by one handle; George Elgood lifted it by the other. They walked down the sunlit garden into the house. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN. TROUT FISHING. There was a short, somewhat embarrassed silence while Margot kept her eyes fixed on the scene of the late meal, the two smouldering fires, the piled-up hampers and baskets, and the Editor drummed with his fingers, and chewed his moustache. "Er--" he began haltingly at last. "How do you think it has gone?" "You mean the--" "Picnic! Yes. My first entertainment. I feel responsible. Think they enjoyed it at all?" "I'm sure of it. Immensely! They thawed wonderfully. Think of the duet! To hear Mr Macalister singing was a revelation. It has been a delightful change from the ordinary routine. And the trout! The trout was a huge success. How amiable of it to let itself be caught so conveniently!" The Editor smiled, with the conscious pride of the experienced fisherman. "There was not much `let' about it. He led me a pretty dance before he gave up the struggle, but I was on my mettle, and bound to win. Do you know anything about fishing, Miss Vane?" "I?" Margot laughed happily. "Just as much as I have gleaned from watching little boys fish for minnows in Regent's Park! I don't think I have ever particularly wanted to know more. It seems so dull to stand waiting for hours for what may never come, not daring to speak, in case you may scare it away! What do you think about all the time?" He turned and looked at her at that, his lips twitching with amusement. Seated on the ground as they were, the two faces were very near together, and each regarded the other with the feeling of advancing a step further in the history of their acquaintance. "He really _is_ young!" decided Margot, with a sigh of relief. "It's only the frown and the stoop and the eyeglasses which make him look as if he were old."