Indeed, on the morning after the evening on which they had been urging him to make a career for himself, there was not much chance of any calm discussion of that subject. The proceedings of the day opened in a remarkably lively manner. For one thing the wind had backed still farther during the night, and was now blowing briskly from the north, bringing with it from time to time smart snow showers that blackened the heavens and earth for a few minutes and then sped on, leaving the peaks and shoulders and even the lower spurs of the hills all a gleaming white in the wintry sunlight. ’Salmon-fishing in a snow-storm—well, I declare!’ said she, as she stood on the shore of the lake, watching him putting the rods together. ’The very best time,’ said he, in his positive way (for he had assumed a kind of authority over her, whereas with Meenie he was always reserved and distant and timidly gentle). ’None better. I would just like to find a foot of snow on the ground, right down to the edge of the loch; and the flakes falling so thick ye couldna see a dozen yards ahead of ye.’ ’Do you know where I should be then?’ she retorted. ’I should be warming my toes in front of Mrs. Murray’s peat-fire.’ ’Not one bit,’ said he, just as positively. ’If ye heard the salmon were taking, ye’d be down here fast enough, I’m thinking.’ And presently it seemed as if this early start of theirs was to be rewarded, for scarcely were both lines out—and Miss Carry was just settling herself down for a little quiet talk, and was pulling the collar of her ulster higher over her ears (for the wind was somewhat cold)—when a sudden tugging and straining at one of the rods, followed by a sharp scream of the reel, upset all these little plans. She made a dash at the rod and raised it quickly. ’That’s a good fish—that’s a good fish!’ Ronald cried, with his mouth set hard. ’Now let’s see if we canna hold on to this one. Let him go, lassie!—I beg your pardon—let him go—let him go—that’s right—a clean fish, and a beauty!’ Beauty or no, the salmon had no hesitation about showing himself, at least; for now he began to lash the surface of the water, some fifty yards away, not springing into the air, but merely beating the waves with head and body and tail to get rid of this unholy thing that he had pursued and gripped. Then down he went with a mighty plunge—the reel whirring out its shrill cry, and Miss Carry’s gloves suffering in consequence—and there he sulked; so that they backed the boat again, and again she got in some of the line. What was the sound that came across the lake to them, in the face of the northerly wind? ’They’re waving a handkerchief to ye, Miss Hodson,’ said he, ’from the other boat.’ ’Oh, bother,’ said she (for the strain of a heavy salmon and forty yards of line was something on her arms), ’here, take the handkerchief from this breast-pocket, and wave it back to them—stand up beside me—they won’t see the difference——’