She called, "How happy you look! Is it as nice as the North West Arm of the Harbour?"
"Oh, yes. But I miss the tang of salt in the air. Won't you come for a paddle?"
"How should I get down?"
"Fly. You look as though you might. Just spread your wings and gently float down to this blue cushion in front of me."
"I'd like to, but my father and I are going for a walk. I am waiting for him."
"Tomorrow then?"
"I'm sorry. Tomorrow I am going away on a visit. It will be several weeks. But when I come back—"
"Very well. The canoe shall be freshly varnished and the tennis court got ready."
Mr. Jerrold joined his daughter and the two stood looking down at Vale as he paddled away.
"How well he paddles."
"I can paddle just as well," said her father. "I shall go out with him sometimes while you are away, dear."
"Oh, please don't, William! You are much too heavy for a canoe. Promise me, or I sha'n't have a minute's peace."
"But I can swim like a fish, Gay."
"I know. But I don't want you two out in a canoe. You're both too reckless."
"Vale reckless?"
"Oh, yes. I think there's a headlong look in his eyes."
"And what sort of look is there in mine?" he asked, bending them on her.
"A look like a wild eagle. Will you promise?"
"Yes, darling. May I have him to dinner then? Or are you afraid we should overeat?"
