"On the contrary," Andrew answered, "I have reason to believe that he would. Isn't that one of your guests coming? You had better go and meet her." Andrew passed on his way, and Cecil walked towards Jeanne. All the time, though, she was looking over his shoulder to where Andrew's tall figure was disappearing. "What a nuisance!" she pouted. "I wanted to see Mr. Andrew, and directly I came in sight he hurried away." "Can I give him any message?" Cecil asked with faint irony. "He will no doubt be up with the fish later in the day." She turned her back on him. "I am going back to the house," she said. "I did not come out here to walk with you." "Considering that I am your host," he began-- "You lose your claim to consideration on that score when you remind me of it," she answered. "Really the only man who has not bored me for weeks is Mr. Andrew. You others are all the same. You say the same things, and you are always paving the way toward the same end. I am tired of it. Stop!" She turned suddenly round. "I quite forgot," she said. "I must go into the village after all. I am going to send a telegram." They retraced their steps in silence. As they entered the telegraph-office Andrew was just leaving, and the postmistress was wishing him a respectful farewell. He touched his hat as the two entered, and stepped on one side. Jeanne, however, held out her hand. "Mr. Andrew," she said, "I am so glad to see you. I want to go out again in that great punt of yours. Please, when can you take me?" "I am afraid," Andrew answered, "that I am rather busy just now. I--" He stopped short, for something in her face perplexed him. It was impossible for her, of course, to feel disappointment to that extent, and yet she had all the appearance of a child about to cry. He felt suddenly awkward and ill at ease. "Of course," he said, "if you really care about it, I should be very pleased to take you any morning toward the end of the week." "To-morrow morning, please," she begged. He glanced towards his brother, who shrugged his shoulders. "If Miss Le Mesurier is really inclined to go, Andrew," the latter said, "I am sure that you will take good care of her. Perhaps some of us will come, too." She nodded her farewells to Andrew, and turned back with her host toward the Hall. Cecil looked at her a little curiously. It was certain that she seemed in better spirits than a short time ago. What a creature of caprices! "Will you tell me, Mr. De la Borne," she asked, "why the postmistress called Mr. Andrew 'sir' if he is only a fisherman?" "Habit, I suppose," Cecil answered carelessly. "They call every one sir and ma'am." "I am not so sure that it was habit," she said thoughtfully. "I think that Mr. Andrew is not quite what he represents himself to be. No one who had not education and experience of nice people could behave quite as he does. Of course, he is rough and brusque at times, I know, but then many men are like that."