“It is going to be intense,” said Mrs. Randolph.

“Melting!”—­said Mrs. Gary.

“You will have enough of it before the end of the day—­” remarked Mr. Sandford.  Mr. Sandford was a good-humoured looking gentleman, with a sensible face and black whiskers; but he was a gentleman, and Daisy approved of him.  He was very unlike his brother.  His wife was a very plain person, in feature, and not very talkative; letting her husband do that for her; but kindly and pleasant nevertheless; and Daisy approved of her too.

“At what hour do you expect the day will end, practically?” inquired Mrs. Randolph of her husband.  He smiled.

“I should say—­judging from present tokens—­not till the sun gets well down on his western way.”

“First-rate!” said Preston aside.  “We’ll have a good time for fishing.”

“But that will make it very late crossing the river, Mr. Randolph? will it not?”

“It may.”

“There is a moon,” said Mrs. Sandford.

“Moon!  I hope we are not to be beholden to the moon’s good offices!” exclaimed the other lady.  “It is only ten o’clock now—­not that.  We shall be tired to death of the woods before we have done with them.”

“You must try fishing, aunt Felicia,” said Preston.

“Yes—­a good idea,” remarked Mr. Sandford.  “I do not know how the ladies can get along without some sport—­ha, ha!  There is a boat on the lake—­isn’t there?”

“They say so,” Mr. Randolph returned.  “I have not been there for a long time.”

“Then I shall take the charge of your entertainment, Mrs. Randolph,” Mr. Sandford went on.  “I shall persuade you to put yourself under my guidance, and let me initiate you into the mysteries of pickerel catching.”

“I do not think you can persuade me out of the shade—­if once I get in it again—­” said the lady.

“Why mamma,” said Ransom, “pickerel fishing is splendid!”

Mr. Randolph looked at Daisy.  No heat nor shadow too much for her!  With one hand clasped in Nora’s, her little face was a pattern of perfect content; nay, it was full of delighted joy.  Mr. Randolph thought he could endure his portion of the heat.

“Nora,” said Daisy, “isn’t it nice?”

“It goes nicely now,” said Nora.

“But isn’t it pleasant?”

“Yes.  It is a great deal pleasanter than in a little boat.  This one is good and large.”

“Isn’t the water pretty?”

“I like the green grass better,” said Nora.

“O yes! but then I like this too.  I like it very much.  Nora, what did you mean by a pic-nic?”

“A pic-nic?” said Nora.

“Yes; you said you thought people did not eat dinner, but it was a pic-nic.”

“Well, I thought they didn’t.”

“What did you mean by a pic-nic?”

“Why I meant just that.  You know what a pic-nic is.”

“We always have dinner when we go on a pic-nic,” said Daisy.