The crickets chirped in the hedges; now and then a firefly flashed before
them; the trees seemed wrapped in silent awe at the majesty of the
bewildering heavens. As they approached the river, the faint susurra came
to them, mingled with the sound of a guitar and some one singing in the
distance.

"Others are enjoying themselves also," he remarked as their feet touched
the pebbly beach. A faint crescent moon shone over the water. Ruth went
straight to the little boat aground on the shore.

"It looks like a cockle-shell," he said, as he put one foot in after
shoving it off. "Will you sit in the stern or the bow, Mrs. Levice?"

"In the bow; I dislike to see dangers before we come to them."

He helped her carefully to her place; she thanked him laughingly for his
exceptionally strong arm, and he turned to Ruth.

"I was waiting for you to move from my place," she said in defiant
mischief, standing motionless beside the boat.

"Your place? Ah, yes; now," he said, holding out his hand to her, "will
you step in?"

She took his hand and stepped in; they were both standing, and as the
little bark swayed he made a movement to catch hold of her.

"You had better sit down," he said, motioning to the rower's seat.

"And you?" she asked.