"That's what I call a fine woman, and a good one," said Mr. Jelliffe, "but I'm sure it is her devotion to that little man that has brought out all her fine points. His people are her people and she has adopted his ideals."

The front door was widely opened on this pleasant day, and, as I was finishing the dressing, Miss Jelliffe was dreamily looking out over the cove and following the circling gulls. I think that, like myself, she wondered at the simplicity of it all. A woman loved a man and clung to him, and from that moment their personalities merged, and their thoughts were shared, and a rough, rock-bound, fog-enwrapped land became, for all its hardships, a place where a man could do great work while the woman developed to the utmost her glorious faculties of helpfulness and tender unselfishness.

To me there could be no doubt that this couple had made of their union something very n.o.ble in achievement, though they were so quiet and simple about it all. In so many marriages the partnership is but a poor doggerel, while in others it is a poem of entrancing beauty, filling hearts with happiness and heads with generous thought.

"You have been staring at me for a whole minute, Doctor," said Mr.

Jelliffe, suddenly. "Anything particularly wrong or fatal in my general appearance?"

"I'm sure I beg your pardon," I said, in some confusion. "You are looking ever so well and I wish I could hurry your leg on a little faster. Nature has ordained that bones will take just about so long to mend. And now I am going away to play. Practice happens to be quite slack to-day and Frenchy should be waiting outside with my rod. I am going to see whether I cannot deceive an innocent salmon into swallowing a little bunch of feathers."

"How dare you speak of such things to an inveterate old angler, after tying him up by one leg!" exclaimed my patient, shaking his fist at me.

"You fill my heart with envy and all manner of uncharitableness. I call it the meanest thing I ever heard of on the part of a doctor. Here I am, without even a new Wall Street report wherewith to possess my soul in patience. Run away before I throw something at you, and good luck to you!"

"I haven't dared to ask Miss Jelliffe whether she would like to cast a fly also," I said. "I suppose she will have to stay and nurse your wounded feelings."

"She has stuck to me like a leech since yesterday morning," complained the old gentleman, "excepting for the short time when she went to church.

I don't seem to be able to get rid of her. Wish you would take her away with you and get me some salmon that doesn't come in cans. She will doubtless have plenty of rainy days during which she will be compelled to stay indoors with me, whether I like it or not."

"I have a half a mind to take you at your word, to punish you," said Miss Jelliffe.

"This should be a great day for a rise," I sought to tempt her.

"I suppose I can be back in time for lunch?" she asked.

"Certainly. You can come back whenever you want to," I a.s.sured her.

"Don't you really care, Daddy?" she asked her father.

"What I care for is broiled salmon, fresh caught and such as has not been drowned in a net like a vulgar herring," answered the latter.

We were away in a few minutes, walking briskly down to the cove, where we entered a dory which Frenchy propelled. Our craft was soon beached at the mouth of the small river and we walked up the bank by the side of the brawling water. When we reached the first pool we sat down on the rocks while I moistened a long leader and opened my fly-book.

"I think we will begin with a Jock Scott," I proposed.

"No, let us try a Silver Doctor," she urged me. "It seems best adapted to present company. It's just a fancy I have, and I'm generally lucky."

As we were speaking a silver crescent leaped from the still surface, flashed for a second in the sunlight and came down again to disappear in the ruffled water.

"Heem a saumon magnifique!" exclaimed Yves.

"You must try for him, Miss Jelliffe," I said. "You are to make good that statement that you are lucky. There is a big rock under the water, just over there where you see that dark spot. He will be likely to rest there.

It is a beautiful clean run fish. Now take my rod and cast well up stream and draw your fly back so that it will pa.s.s over that spot."

"Oh, no, you try," she said, eagerly. "Isn't he a beauty!"

But I insisted and she took the rod, a fourteen-foot split bamboo. She looked behind her, to see that the coast was clear. There were no bushes for her to hook and no rise of ground to look out for.

"Steady, Miss Jelliffe," I said. "Don't get nervous. If he rises don't try to strike. They will hook themselves as often as not. Begin by casting away from that place until you get out enough line, then get your fly a little beyond that spot and draw in gently."

"I've caught plenty of big trout," she said, excitedly, "but I've never landed a salmon. I am nearly hoping that he won't take the fly. I won't know what to do."

"There has to be a first time in everything," I told her. "Just imagine you're after a big trout."

She appeared to become cooler and more confident, letting out a little line, retrieving it nicely, and lengthening her cast straight across the stream. The rod was going back expertly, just slightly over her right shoulder, and the line whizzed overhead.

"Easy," I advised her; "it is a longer rod than you are used to."

She waited properly until the line had straightened out behind her, and cast again.

"That is plenty, now for that rock, Miss Jelliffe," I said.

There was another cast, with a slight twist of her supple waist. The fly flew out, falling two or three yards beyond the rock and she pulled back, gently, her lure rippling the dark surface. Then came a faint splash, a vision of a silvery gleam upon the water, which smoothed down again while the line came back as light as ever.

"Easy, easy, don't cast again in the same place," I advised.

She obeyed, but sore disappointment was in her eyes.

"Did I do anything wrong?" she asked, eagerly.

"Not a bit. He never touched the fly. But I always like to wait a minute before casting again after a rise, and I think we will put on a smaller Doctor. His attention has been awakened and he will be more likely to take it."

I quickly changed the fly and Miss Jelliffe, with grim determination, went to work again. Soon she brought the lure over the exact spot but met with no response. Once more without the faintest sign of a rise. A third time, and suddenly the reel sang out and a gleaming bolt shot out of the water.

"Now steady, Miss Jelliffe! Easy on his mouth. Let him run. If he slackens reel in. That's the way! We'll have to follow him a little, but try to keep him from going down stream too far."

Her eyes were eager and her face flushed with the excitement. The wisps of her glorious hair were floating in the wind as she stepped along the bank, steadily, while I stood at her side without touching her, but with a hand ready in case of a slip or a misstep. Frenchy followed us, carrying a big landing-net and a gaff. His face bore a wide grin and he was jumping with excitement.

The fish turned and took a run up the pool, again shooting out of the water in a splendid leap. Then he turned once more, giving Miss Jelliffe a chance to reel in some line. For a short time he swam about slowly, as if deeply considering a plan of conduct. At any rate this was followed by furious fighting; he was up in the air again, and down to the bottom of the pool, and dashing hither and yon, the line cleaving the water. At times he seemed to try to shake his jaws free from the hook. Miss Jelliffe was now pale from the excitement of it. Her teeth were close set, excepting when she uttered sharp little exclamations of fear and renewed hope. But always she met his every move, deftly, and was quick to follow my words of advice. Then followed a period of sulking, when he went down deep and refused to budge, with the tense line vibrating a little with the push of the current. I began to meditate on the wisdom or folly of throwing a stone in the water to make him move, but suddenly he cut short my cogitations and shot away again, heading up-stream.

"Fight him just a bit harder, Miss Jelliffe," I advised. "Don't allow him to get rested and try to put a little more strain on the rod; it can stand it and I'm sure he's well hooked."

"But my arms are getting paralyzed," she complained, with a little tense laugh. "They are beginning to feel as if they would never move again."

"I should be glad to take the rod," I said, "but afterwards you would never forgive me. I know that you want to land that fish yourself."

Her little look of determination increased. She was flushed now. Under the slightly increased effort she made the salmon began to yield, taking short darts from side to side, which began to grow shorter.

"Walk down a little with him, to bring him into shallower water," I advised, and took the gaff from Yves. Then I waded in until I was knee deep and kept very still, but the fish took another run.

"Never mind," I cried, "keep on fighting even if your arms are ready to drop. A steady pull on him. That's fine! Bring him again a little nearer.

That's the way! He is mighty tired now; just a bit nearer. Good enough!"

The iron of the gaff disappeared under water. Miss Jelliffe was giving him the b.u.t.t, and her lips quivered. Then I made a quick move and a splashing ma.s.s of silver rose out of the stream with mighty struggling. I hurried ash.o.r.e with it and held it up.

The great contest was over. Miss Jelliffe put down the rod and her arms sank down to her side, wearily, yet in another moment she knelt down upon the mossy gra.s.s beside the beautiful salmon.

"Oh! Isn't it a beauty!" she cried. "Thank you ever so much! Wasn't it a wonderful fight he made! I could never have managed it without your help.

You're a very good teacher, you know, and I can understand now why you men just get crazy over salmon fishing. I'll be just as crazy as any one from now on. How much does he weigh?"