noiselessly off the sand, and away from the shore.

They thus sat facing each other in the graceful yellow cockle-shell,
and his eyes frequently found a resting-place in the depths of hers.
The boat was so small that at each return of the sculls, when his
hands came forward to begin the pull, they approached so near to her
that her vivid imagination began to thrill her with a fancy that he
was going to clasp his arms round her. The sensation grew so strong
that she could not run the risk of again meeting his eyes at those
critical moments, and turned aside to inspect the distant horizon;
then she grew weary of looking sideways, and was driven to return to
her natural position again. At this instant he again leant forward
to begin, and met her glance by an ardent fixed gaze. An
involuntary impulse of girlish embarrassment caused her to give a
vehement pull at the tiller-rope, which brought the boat's head
round till they stood directly for shore.

His eyes, which had dwelt upon her form during the whole time of her
look askance, now left her; he perceived the direction in which they
were going.

'Why, you have completely turned the boat, Miss Graye?' he said,
looking over his shoulder. 'Look at our track on the water--a great
semicircle, preceded by a series of zigzags as far as we can see.'

She looked attentively. 'Is it my fault or yours?' she inquired.
'Mine, I suppose?'

'I can't help saying that it is yours.'