As neither Barbara nor I were experts--I always trembled lest a strong young fish getting hold of the end of Barbara's line should whisk her over like a feather into the boiling current--and as for myself, I prefer the more contemplative art of bottom fishing from a punt in dry weather--our friends caught all the salmon, while we merely caught colds in the head.

Many an hour of sodden misery was cheered by the whispered word of comfort: Jaffery would be home for Christmas.

And when, at ten o'clock in the evening, just as we were beginning to awake from the nightmare of the day, and to desire sprightly conversation, our host and hostess fell into a lethargy, and staggered off to slumber, we beguiled the hour before bedtime with talk of Jaffery's homecoming.
At last we escaped and took the good train south.

The Bolderos had already returned to London.

They came to spend our first week-end at Northlands.