Claude sprung up, and began talking over arrangements and possibilities with zest, which showed what his wishes had been from the first. All was quickly settled, and as soon as his father had given his cordial approbation to the scheme, it was amusing to see how animated and active Claude became, and in how different a style he talked of the once slighted Rhine. Lord Rotherwood told the boys that their brother was a great deal too good for them, but they never troubled themselves to ask in what respect; Lilias took very great delight in telling Emily of the sacrifice which he had been willing to make, and looked forward to talking it over with Alethea, but she refrained, as long as he was at home, as she knew it would greatly displease him, and she had heard enough about missish confidences. The Marquis of Rotherwood was certainly the very reverse of his chosen travelling companion, in the matter of activity. He made an appointment with the two boys to get up at half-past four on Monday morning for some fishing, before the sun was too high—Maurice not caring for the sport, but intending to make prize of any of the ‘insect youth’ which might prefer the sunrise for their gambols; and Reginald, in high delight at the prospect of real fishing, something beyond his own performances with a stick and a string, in pursuit of minnows in the ditches. Reginald was making contrivances for tying a string round his wrist and hanging the end of it from the window, that Andrew Grey might give it a pull as he went by to his work, to wake him, when Lord Rotherwood exclaimed, ‘What! cannot you wake yourself at any time you please?’ ‘No,’ said Reginald, ‘I never heard of any one that could.’ ‘Then I advise you to learn the art; in the meantime I will call you to-morrow.’ Loud voices and laughter in the hall, and the front door creaking on its hinges at sunrise, convinced the household that this was no vain boast; before breakfast was quite over the fishermen were seen approaching the house. Lord Rotherwood was an extraordinary figure, in an old shooting jacket of his uncle’s, an enormous pair of fishing-boots of William’s, and the broad-brimmed straw hat, which always hung up in the hall, and was not claimed by any particular owner. Maurice displayed to Jane the contents of two phials, strange little creatures, with stranger names, of which he was as proud as Reginald of his three fine trout. Lord Rotherwood did not appear till he had made himself look like other people, which he did in a surprisingly short time. He began estimating the weight of the fish, and talking at his most rapid rate, till at last Claude said, ‘Phyllis told us just now that you were coming back, for that she heard Cousin Rotherwood talking, and it proved to be Jane’s old turkey cock gobbling.’ ‘No bad compliment,’ said Emily, ‘for Phyllis was once known to say, on hearing a turkey cock, “How melodiously that nightingale sings.”’ ‘No, no! that was Ada,’ said Lilias.