Marise was amused. "Oh, you've been lectured to on local history, I
see," she surmised.

"_I_ found it very interesting," said Mr. Welles, loyally. "Though
perhaps he does try to give you a little too much at one sitting."

"Mr. Welles," said Paul, with his mouth full, "fishing season begins in
ten days."

Marise decided that she would really have to have a rest from telling
Paul not to talk with food in his mouth, and said nothing.

Mr. Welles confessed that he had never gone fishing in his life, and
asked if Paul would take him.

"Sure!" said Paul. "Mother and I go, lots."

Mr. Marsh looked at Marise inquiringly. "Yes," she said, "I'm a
confirmed fisherman. Some of the earliest and happiest recollections I
have, are of fishing these brooks when I was a little girl."

"Here?" asked Mr. Welles. "I thought you lived in France."

"There's time in a child's life to live in various places," she
explained. "I spent part of my childhood and youth here with my dear old
cousin. The place is full of associations for me. Will you have your
spinach now, or later? It'll keep hot all right if you'd rather wait."

"What is this delicious dish?" asked Mr. Marsh. "It tastes like a man's