And it was Sheila who held him captive, who humored him
when he sulked, and gently guided him away from dangerous places, and
kept him well in hand when he tried to cross the current, until at
last, all the fierceness gone out of him, he let himself be tenderly
inveigled into the side of the pool, where Duncan, by a dexterous
movement, surrounded him with network and placed his shining body
among the bright green grass.
But Ingram was not so overjoyed this time. He complimented Sheila in a
friendly way, but he was rather grave, and obviously did not care for
this business of fishing. And so Sheila, fancying that he was rather
dull because he was not joining in the sport, proposed that he should
walk back to the house with her, leaving Mr. Lavender with Duncan. And
Ingram was quite ready to do so.
But Lavender protested that he cared very little for salmon-fishing.
He suggested that they should all go back together. The sun was
killing the wind, and soon the pools would be as clear as glass. Had
they not better try in the afternoon, when perhaps the breeze would
freshen? And so they walked back to the house.
On the garden-seat a book lay open. It was Mr. Mill's _Essay on
Liberty_, and it had evidently been left there by Mr. Mackenzie,
perhaps--who knows?--to hint to his friends from the South that he was
familiar with the problems of the age.
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