hugged close to her forehead. Little streams of water dripped from her nose and finger-tips. She looked like a little slim Mercury with a close-cropped head, as she stood erect on the edge of the board a second. She had a boy's figure, with soft, gradual curves. Her profile was almost perfect. One was struck with the purity of line from finger-tip to ankle, as she stood and raised both her hands high in the air preparatory to springing, and inscribing, half in air, half in water, the big graceful semi-circle that inspired her so.
Reba could swim with some confidence now, and to-night her dive was a good one. The instructor told her so, as with her newly acquired over-arm stroke Reba approached the side of the tank. Of course, of course, it was a good one, she thought joyfully. Everything was good to-day.
"I'll try it again," she called out buoyantly.
"Do. You've a visitor in the gallery. Do try it again, and let her see it wasn't just an accident."
It was as sudden as that.
"A visitor?" queried Reba.
The instructor nodded. "Asked if she might look on a while," she said.
"A visitor?" Reba repeated.
"Over there. Left side." The instructor motioned galleryward, and turned away.
Reba glanced up. One glance was sufficient. It was Aunt Augusta!
