“Hector shall drive me home.”

Carrie reached him just as Lachlan was unhooking another two-pounder from his line. He had noticed that somebody was approaching along the bank, but the concentration required for the two-pounder had not allowed him to notice the substitution of Carrie for her sister-in-law.

“If you hadn’t gone off, Myrtle, you’d have seen what a Belted Pinkhead can do,” he shouted exultantly, as he watched the victim’s convulsions upon the bank.

“Well, I’ve been called lots of names,” said Carrie, “but I’ve never been called that before.”

“Good lord, it’s you! Where’s Myrtle?”

“She’s kindly offered to drive a friend of our architect back to Knocknacolly. A Mr Macmillan.”

“Oh, that’s what that was! I couldn’t think what it was.”

“What what was?”

“That tartan. But the Macmillan tartan’s notorious. It was always said they invented it to frighten Campbell of Inverneil. But of course nothing could frighten Campbell of Inverneil or any other Campbell off somebody else’s land.”

“So I’m going to plead for a lift in your two-seater, Hector.”

“That’s topping.”

“My, what lovely fishes!”

“Got ’em all on a Belted Pinkhead,” said Hector, gazing at the four trout with fatherly pride. “Young Somerled MacDonald of Ours will be no end bucked when I tell him about it. He always swears by Hopkinson’s Belted Pinkhead. We had a terrific discussion about that fly and the Redwinged Biffer one night in the mess at Tallulahgabad. Well, I’ll be seeing Somerled again pretty soon now. Off back to India the day after to-morrow. All right, Lachy, you can put the fish in the car. I shan’t do any more to-day. Good lad, that,” he observed as the gillie went off with the catch. “Got married last year.”

Hector made a noise like a whale spouting which Carrie recognized as a sigh.

“Why that sigh, Hector?”

“Took rather a knock this afternoon. What is it old Kipling says? Can’t remember, I’m afraid. But I know he wrote some jolly good lines about the way a fellow feels when he’s taken a knock over a girl.”

“Poor Hector! And was Myrtle the girl?”

“Yes. I asked her to marry me just before you buzzed along. I led a heart, but she hadn’t got one in her hand and trumped it with a small club, or in other words said she thought friendship was better than marriage. It’ll be a blow to the old man. He was convinced that Myrtle and I were made for one another.” He spouted again. “Oh, well, such is life! Very like fishing, as I said to Myrtle. One fellow catches a basketful and the other fellow catches nothing. Still, that Belted Pinkhead taught me a lesson. I may cast one over the right girl one day, what?”