his complete untrustworthiness: presuming, as she termed it, making
claims and advances, putting her to trouble to keep her vernal unwisdom
from her mother. Still, she _had_ thought she had disposed of him
at last....

Now there sat the unwelcome swain, her boarder, so close that she could
have touched him. And her gaze upon him was like arctic snowblink: an
odd look in pretty young eyes.

"You've no right to force yourself upon me in this way," said she. "You
must get out of my boat at once."

"Oh, no, I mustn't, Carlisle. That's where you make--mistake. You've put
me off--too often. Now--the time's come."

"You must be out of your senses. This is outrageous. I insist--I demand
that you get out of my boat _immediately_."

"When d' ju--listen when I--demanded?"

His heavy resoluteness reduced her suddenly to the weakness of saying:
"A gentleman wouldn't do such a thing.... You will regret this."

"Man," said Dalhousie, with the same labored slowness, "comes before
gen'leman. An' the regrets--will be yours. I've come--to have a talk."

In the momentary silence, the drip, drip from his bathing-suit became
very audible. The lad leaked like a sieve, all over her boat. Miss Heth
glanced swiftly and vexedly from him, over the unchanged panorama. Empty
water lapping empty beach; no one watching. Only now, in the sky over