In the bustle of taking boats an officious guard succeeded, for the
thousandth time that day, in the joyful duty of separating a party;
and Constance and Johnny were left behind to enjoy the next boat all
to themselves.

It was dim and cool in there--all narrow gravity canals, and quaint
canvas buildings, and queer arches, and mellow lights, with little
dark curves and long winding reaches, and a restfulness almost like
solemnity.

It was the first time Johnny had been in such close companionship
with Constance as this strange isolation gave them, and he did not
know what to say. After all, what was the use of saying? They were
there, side by side, upon the gently flowing water, far, far away
from all the world; and it would seem almost rude to break that
bliss with language, which so often fails to interpret thought.

Constance's hand was drooping idly across her knee and, by an
uncontrollable impulse, Johnny's hand, all by itself, slid over and
gently clasped the whiter and slenderer one. It did not draw away;
and, huddled up on their low narrow seat, bumping against the wooden
banks and floating on and on, they cared not whither, they stared
into oblivion in that semi-trancelike condition that sometimes
accompanies the peculiar state in which they found themselves.

"Oh-ho-o-o-o!" rang the clear voice of Winnie from a parallel canal
just behind them.

Constance, flushing violently, attempted to jerk her hand away; but