They had gained their end; and their natural delicacy assured them that the sight of them could not be pleasant to Sir James.

As the Terror phrased it: "He must be pretty sick at getting a lesson; and there's no point in rubbing it in." Then one evening (by no fault of theirs) he came upon them.

Erebus was playing a big trout; and she had no thought of abandoning it to spare Sir James' feelings.

Besides, if she had had such a thought, it was impracticable, since Mrs.Dangerfield had come with them.
He watched Erebus play her fish for two or three minutes; then it snapped the gut and was gone.
"Evidently you're no so good at fishing as blackmailing," said Sir James in a nasty carping tone, for the fact that they had worsted him still rankled in his heart.
"I catch more fish than you do, anyhow!" said Erebus with some heat; and she cast an uneasy glance over his shoulder.
Sir James turned to see what she had glanced at and found himself looking into the deep brown eyes of a very pretty woman.
[Illustration: Sir James turned and found himself looking into the deep brown eyes of a very pretty woman.] He had not seen her when he had come out of the bushes on to the scene of the struggle; he had been too deeply interested in it to remove his eyes from it; and she had watched it from behind him.
"This is Sir James Morgan, mother," said the Terror quickly.
Sir James raised his cap; Mrs.Dangerfield bowed, and said gratefully: "It was very good of you to give my children leave to fish." "Oh--ah--yes--n-n-not at all," stammered Sir James, blushing faintly.
He was unused to women and found her presence confusing.
"Oh, but it was," said Mrs.Dangerfield.

"And I'm seeing that they don't take an unfair advantage of your kindness, for they told me that, thanks to Mr.Glazebrook's netting his part of it, there are none too many fish in the stream." "It's very good of you.