306 SALMON FISHING 



dignified leisure. The Enemy's hosts were gone. 

 At the best they could not be expected to rescue 

 the laddie and the salmon in less than half an hour. 

 Thus, Miss Winsome and I were in no whit flurried 

 when, having cut across the gorse-covered hill to 

 the high road, we entered the avenue of Sir John's 

 abode. True, there was a slight embarrassment 

 afterwards. On entering the drawing-room before 

 dinner, what did I behold? Miss Winsome in 

 sprightly and ingenuous conversation with the 

 Enemy ! She was assuring him that, while no river 

 in the country had such clouds of March Browns as 

 the Tay, somehow or other the March Brown was 

 not the best fly there. Yellow Sally was the fly for 

 her. Sally, in real life, was a comparatively rare bird, 

 which, no doubt, was why the trout appreciated her 

 so highly. To this discourse the Enemy listened 

 with rubicund and gallant courtesy. Would not 

 Miss Winsome give Sally a trial on the Otter's Stone 

 Pool ? Although that was on his own stretch, he 

 really did think he could commend it. Always 

 there were big trout there ; often, in autumn, 

 grayling; and the first run of grilse was due. He 

 did trust that next time she went fishing Miss 

 Winsome would honour him by casting a fly on the 

 pool. As she placed her hand on the Enemy's arm 

 and turned towards the door, I heard her most 

 graciously accepting the invitation. 



