At last, however, there was a thud of horsehoofs in the orchard, and a man rode out from among the trees, but Miss Deringham, who had risen with a smile, shut the fingers of one hand a trifle viciously when she saw that it was not Alton.  The man sat loosely in his saddle, and his face was a trifle flushed when he pulled the horse up.

“Is Harry Alton anywhere around, miss?” he said, and the girl noticed that his voice was uneven.

“He may be here presently,” she said.  “I don’t know where he is.”

“I’ve a long way to ride, and can’t wait for him,” said the man, swaying a little as he gathered up the bridle.  “There seems to be nobody around the place, and when he comes you might tell him to go up to Townshead’s as soon as he can.  Miss Nellie’s wanting to see him, and it’s Thursday.”

“Thursday?” said Miss Deringham.

“Yes,” said the man.  “Harry will understand.  There was some more about it, but I’ve forgotten it.  Well, you’ll tell him.  I must be getting on.”

He lurched when the horse started, and though most men are abstemious in that country, Alice Deringham decided that he was under the influence of alcohol.  She also felt distinctly displeased with him for bringing his message before she and Alton had set out for the lake.  It was a favourable afternoon for fishing, and not pleasant to reflect that her amusement must be deferred at the bidding of the girl from the ranch.  Then she decided that as Alton would not have received the message had he come when she expected him, it would not make any great difference if he did not hear it until their return.  Miss Deringham did not remember by what reasoning she arrived at that result, but it seemed to her distinctly more fitting that Miss Townshead should be the one to wait.

Ten minutes later Alton rode up at a gallop.  “Sorry I couldn’t come before, but I was over at Thomson’s borrowing a new trolling spoon,” he said.  “Jimmy’s too slow for anything, and I had to look at a span of oxen he’d been buying.”

“It seems to me that leisureliness is a characteristic of the country,” said the girl.

Alton glanced at her with a faint twinkle in his eyes.  “Now if you feel vexed with me, look at the horse,” said he.  “Anyway, the canoe’s ready and the lake all rippling, and I’ve one of the new flight-hook spoons.”

Miss Deringham, who saw the spume upon the bit and the horse’s whitened sides, smiled graciously, and decided that Nellie Townshead’s message could very well wait until the evening.

“I will be ready in about five minutes,” she said.

She kept the man waiting twenty, possibly because she believed it would be a salutary discipline, and was not displeased to notice that he stamped impatiently up and down.  Then she went down with him to the lake, and it was dusk when they returned with several fine trout, in the state of content with each other which occasionally characterizes comrades in a successful angling expedition.  They had also so much to talk about that Miss Deringham completely forgot the message, and her pleasure was only dissipated when she met her father alone for a minute.  His pose expressed dejection and indecision as he came towards her along the verandah.