“A letter from papa! It came with the stage! What does he say?” “He says—several things; for one, he is coming back tomorrow instead of the next day.” “Delightful! But there is more?” Mrs Dene’s face became a cheerful blank. “Yes, there is more,” she said. A pause. “Mamma,” began Ruth, “do you think Griffins desirable as mothers?” “Very, for bad children!” Mrs Dene relapsed into a pleasant reverie. Ruth looked at her mother as a kitten does in a game of tag when the old cat has retired somewhere out of reach and sits up smiling through the barrier. “You find her sadly changed!” she said to Gethryn, in that silvery, mocking tone which she had inherited from her mother. “On the contrary, I find her the same adorable gossip she always was. Whatever is in that letter, she is simply dying to tell us all about it.” “Suppose we try not speaking, and see how long she can stand that?” Rex laid his repeater on the table. Two pairs of laughing eyes watched the dear little old lady. At the end of three minutes she raised her own; blue, sweet, running over with fun and kindness. “The colonel has a polite invitation from the duke for himself, and his party, to shoot on the Red Peak.” CHAPTER XIII. In July the sun is still an early riser, but long before he was up next day a succession of raps on the door woke Gethryn, and a voice outside inquired, “Are you going fishing with me today, you lazy beggar?” “Colonel!” cried Rex, and springing up and throwing open the door, he threatened to mingle his pajamas with the natty tweeds waiting there in a loving embrace. The colonel backed away, twisting his white mustache. “How do, Reggy! Same boy, eh? Yes. I drove from Schicksalsee this morning.” “This morning? Wasn’t it last night?” said Rex, looking at the shadows on the opposite mountain. “And I am going to get some trout,” continued the colonel, ignoring the interruption. “So’s Daisy. See my new waterproof rig?” “Beautiful! but—is it quite the thing to wear a flower in one’s fishing coat?” “I’m not aware—” began the other stiffly, but broke down, shook his seal ring at Rex, and walking over to the glass, rearranged the bit of wild hyacinth in his buttonhole with care. “And now,” he said, “Daisy and I will give you just three quarters of an hour.” Rex sent a shower from the water basin across the room. “Look out for those new waterproof clothes, Colonel.” “I’ll take them out of harm’s way,” said the colonel, and disappeared. Before the time had expired Rex stood under the beech tree with his rod case and his creel. The colonel sat reading a novel. Mrs Dene was pouring out coffee. Ruth was coming down a path which led from a low shed, the door of which stood wide open, suffering the early sunshine to fall on something that lay stretched along the floor. It was a stag, whose noble head and branching antlers would never toss in the sunshine again.