"My dear! I feared something improper was going on. A young man, not a
relation, out alone on the water with two girls! That's the kind of
thing we don't allow, in Northbury, Bee. Now, what's the matter?"

"Look," said Beatrice, "look! They are putting up the sail, and they are
not doing it right. They oughtn't all three to stand up in the boat
together. It will capsize! Oh, I must fly to them. Good-bye, Mrs.
Butler. Mother would like to see you at tea, to-night. Good-bye, Miss
Peters."

She rushed away, and the next moment was down on the quay. Three moments
later she was speeding with swift long strokes across the harbor in her
own beautifully appointed row-boat.

Her dress was of dark blue serge, with white collar and cuffs. Her hat
was a simple sailor one. The exercise brought the color into her cheeks,
and her big somewhat pathetic gray eyes were bright.

"There she goes!" exclaimed Miss Peters. "Never saw such a girl. Doesn't
she handle her oars with a touch? Oh, of course she is off to the rescue
of those poor bunglers. And I daresay they don't think her good enough
to speak to."

"Good enough!" exclaimed Mrs. Butler. "She's twice too good for any one
of them. Didn't her dress fit neat, Maria? Well, I hope she won't get
let in by their fine ways. For my part, I'm not going to take any notice
of the Bertrams. The way they behaved was past enduring. Not at homing
when I called, and then leaving their cards on the day when I was at the
bazaar. Highty-tighty, says I, who's Mrs. Bertram that she should look
down on us in this fashion? Isn't the widow of a good honest butter