Miss--Miss----"

"Beatrice Granger," she put in hastily. "My father is the clergyman of
Bryngelly. I saw you when you and Lady Honoria Bingham looked into the
school yesterday. I teach in the school." She did not tell him, however,
that his face had interested her so much that she had asked his name.

Again he started. He had heard of this young lady. Somebody had told him
that she was the prettiest girl in Wales, and the cleverest, but that
her father was not a gentleman.

"Oh," he said, taking off his hat in the direction of the canoe. "Isn't
it a little risky, Miss Granger, for you to be canoeing alone in this
mist?"

"Yes," she answered frankly, "but I am used to it; I go out canoeing in
all possible weathers. It is my amusement, and after all the risk does
not matter much," she added, more to herself than to him.

While he was wondering what she meant by that dark saying, she went on
quickly:

"Do you know, Mr. Bingham, I think that you are in more danger than I
am. It must be getting near seven o'clock, and the tide is high at a
quarter to eight. Unless I am mistaken there is by now nearly half a
mile of deep water between you and the shore."

"My word!" he said. "I forgot all about the tide. What between the
shooting and looking for that curlew, and the mist, it never occurred to
me that it was getting late. I suppose I must swim for it, that is all."