There stood Kitty behind the garden-gate, with a fishing-rod in
each hand. A tin box was strapped on one side of her little body
and a basket on the other. Burdened with these impediments, she
required assistance. Susan had let her out of the house; and
Samuel must now open the gate for her. She was pleased to observe
that the raw morning had reddened her friend's nose; and she
presented her own nose to notice as exhibiting perfect sympathy
in this respect. Feeling a misplaced confidence in Mr. Sarrazin's
knowledge and experience as an angler, she handed the
fishing-rods to him. "My fingers are cold," she said; "you bait
the hooks." He looked at his young friend in silent perplexity;
she pointed to the tin box. "Plenty of bait there, Samuel; we
find maggots do best." Mr. Sarrazin eyed the box with undisguised
disgust; and Kitty made an unexpected discovery. "You seem to
know nothing about it," she said. And Samuel answered, cordially,
"Nothing!" In five minutes more he found himself by the side of
his young friend--with his hook baited, his line in the water,
and strict injunctions to keep an eye on the float.

They began to fish.

Kitty looked at her companion, and looked away again in silence.
By way of encouraging her to talk, the good-natured lawyer
alluded to what she had said when they parted overnight. "You
wanted to ask me something," he reminded her. "What is it?"

Without one preliminary word of warning to prepare him for
the shock, Kitty answered: "I want you to tell me what has
become of papa, and why Syd has gone away and left me. You know
who Syd is, don't you?"