Brentford, and turned around off Isleworth. He rowed leisurely back,
dropping the oars now and again to light his pipe.

"There's nothing like this to brace a fellow up," he said to himself, as
he drew near Maynard's. "I should miss the river if I took a studio in
town. I'll have a bit of lunch at the Red Lion, and then go home and do
an afternoon's work."

A churning, thumping noise, which he had disregarded before, suddenly
swelled louder and warned him of possible danger. He was about off the
middle of Strand-on-the-Green, and, glancing around, he saw one of the
big Thames excursion steamers, laden with passengers, ploughing
up-stream within fifty yards of him, but at a safe distance to his
right. The same glimpse revealed a pretty picture midway between himself
and the vessel--a young girl approaching in a light Canadian canoe. She
could not have been more than twenty, and the striking beauty of her
face was due to those charms of expression and feature which are
indefinable. A crimson Tam-o'-Shanter was perched jauntily on her golden
hair, and a blue Zouave jacket, fitting loosely over her blouse, gave
full play to the grace and skill with which she handled the paddle.

Jack was indifferent to women, and wont to boast that none could
enslave him, but the sight of this fair young English maiden, if it did
not weaken the citadel of his heart, at least made that organ beat a
trifle faster. He shot one look of bold admiration, then turned and bent
to the oars.

"I don't know when I have seen so lovely a face," he thought. "I wonder
who she is."