“We chanced to fail in with her brother on the river. We found him struggling with a fish far too large for his tackle, and which at last smashed his rod and got away. He showed not alone that he was a perfect angler, but that he was a fine-tempered fellow, who accepted his defeat manfully and well; he had even a good word for his enemy, sir, and it was that which attracted me. Trafford and he, young-men-like, soon understood each other; he came into our boat, lunched with us, and asked us home with him to tea. There 's the whole story. As to the intimacy that followed, it was mostly my own doing. I own to you I never so much as suspected that Trafford was smitten by her; he was always with her brother, scarcely at all in her company; and when he came to tell me he was in love, I asked him how he caught the malady, for I never saw him near the infection. Once that I knew of the matter, however, I made him write home to his family.” “It was by your advice, then, that he wrote that letter?” “Certainly; I not only advised, I insisted on it,--I read it, too, before it was sent off. It was such a letter as, if I had been the young fellow's father, would have made me prouder than to hear he had got the thanks of Parliament.” “You and I, Fossbrooke, are old bachelors; we are scarcely able to say what we should have done if we had had sons.” “I am inclined to believe it would have made us better, not worse,” said Fossbrooke, gravely. “At all events, as it was at your instigation this letter was written, I can't well suggest your name as an impartial person in the transaction,--I mean, as one who can be referred to for advice or information.”