"
The following year Beekman tried Moosehead Lake. Here he found an
atmosphere more favourable to his plan of education. There were a
good many people who really fished, and short expeditions in the
woods were quite fashionable. Cornelia had a camping-costume of the
most approved style made by Dewlap on Fifth Avenue,--pearl-gray with
linings of rose-silk,--and consented to go with her husband on a
trip up Moose River. They pitched their tent the first evening at
the mouth of Misery Stream, and a storm came on. The rain sifted
through the canvas in a fine spray, and Mrs. De Peyster sat up all
night in a waterproof cloak, holding an umbrella. The next day they
were back at the hotel in time for lunch.
"It was horrid," she told her most intimate friend, "perfectly
horrid. The idea of sleeping in a shower-bath, and eating your
breakfast from a tin plate, just for sake of catching a few silly
fish! Why not send your guides out to get them for you?"
But, in spite of this profession of obstinate heresy, Beekman
observed with secret joy that there were signs, before the end of
the season, that Cornelia was drifting a little, a very little but
still perceptibly, in the direction of a change of heart. She began
to take an interest, as the big trout came along in September, in
the reports of the catches made by the different anglers.
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