“I’m awfully glad of that,” said she; and the soft, clear hazel eyes repeated her words in their own transparent way.

“I remembered all your instructions,” he continued (and he was in no hurry that Miss Cunyngham should go on to the luncheon-party; while old Robert stood patiently by).  “And I was very fortunate in getting easy shots.  Then when I did miss, either Sir Hugh or Captain Waveney was sure to get the bird?  I never saw such smart shooting.”

“What have you done?”

“Altogether?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t know.  The panniers are being emptied, to make a show for Lady Rosamund’s sketch.  I fancy there are close on sixty brace of grouse, with some blue hares and a snipe and a wild duck.”

“What has Lord Fareborough’s party done?”

“I don’t know? they have just shown up—­so you needn’t hurry on unless you are hungry.”

“But I am—­very hungry,” said she, with a laugh.  “I have been hard at work all the morning.”

“Oh, in that case,” he said, eagerly, “by all means come along, and I’ll get you something at once.  You and I needn’t wait for the emptying of the other panniers.  Oh, yes, that will do first-rate; I’m a duffer at shooting, you know, Miss Cunyngham, but I’m a splendid forager at a picnic.  Let me carry the gaff for you.”

“Oh, no, thank you,” she said, “I merely use it as a walking-stick coming up the Bad Step.”

“And there,” he exclaimed, as they went on through the birch-wood, “look at the selfishness of men!  You ask all about my shooting; but I never asked what luck you had with your fishing.”

“Well, I’ve had rather bad luck,” she said, simply.  “I lost a fish in the Geinig Pool, after having him on for about five minutes, and I rose another in the Horse-Shoe Pool and couldn’t get him to come again all I could do.  But I mean to call upon him in the afternoon.”

A sudden inspiration flashed into his brain.

“I should like to come and see you try for him,” he said, quickly.  “I suppose they wouldn’t mind my sending home my gun?”

“Mr. Moore!” she said, with her eyes downcast.  “They’d think you were mad to leave a shooting-party on the Twelfth.  You can see a salmon caught, or catch one yourself, any time.”

He felt a little bit snubbed, he hardly knew why; but of course she knew what was right in all such things; and so he humbly acquiesced.  Indeed, he could not contest the point, for now they had come upon the picnic-party, where luncheon was in full swing.  Lord Fareborough had declared on his arrival that he would not wait for the completion of his daughter’s sketch; his nervous system was not to be tried in any such fashion; luncheon must be proceeded with at once, and Lady Rosamund could make her drawing when the gentlemen were smoking afterwards.  Lady Adela wanted to wait for Mr. Moore, but she, too, was overruled by the impatient hypochondriac.  So Lionel set to work to form a seat for Miss Honnor, out of some bracken that the gillies had cut and brought along; and also he exclusively looked after her—­to Miss Georgie Lestrange’s chagrin; for Lord Rockminster was too lazy to attend to any one but himself, and what girl likes being waited on by her brother when other young men are about?