But the thing was in his mind as a happy possibility of the future. We
talked till midnight, sitting at the end of the verandah overlooking the
ravine. This corner, called the coping, became consecrated to our many
conversations. We painted and sketched there in the morning (when we were
not fishing or he was not at his duties), received visitors, and smoked
in the evening, inhaling the balsam from the pines. An old man and his
wife kept the house for us, and gave us to eat of simple but comfortable
fare. The trout-fishing was good, and many a fine trout was broiled for
our evening meal; and many a fine string of trout found its way to the
tables of Roscoe's poorest parishioners, or else to furnish the more
fashionable table at which Ruth Devlin presided. There were excursions up
the valley, and picnics on the hill-sides, and occasional lunches and
evening parties at the summer hotel, a mile from us farther down the
valley, at which tourists were beginning to assemble.
Yet, all the time, Roscoe was abundantly faithful to his duties at Viking
and in the settlement called Sunburst, which was devoted to
salmon-fishing.
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