Then she glanced at me and her eyes held mine for a moment, fascinated; then, with a little shrug of her shoulders, she turned away, and I knew that the danger of Dicky's realizing her agitation was passed.
"What are you looking at so earnestly?" Dicky demanded.
Without waiting for an answer, he turned swiftly, following my gaze, and catching sight of the retreating back of Grace Draper.
"Good Lord!" he gasped in consternation. "Do you suppose she heard what I said?"
"Oh, I'm sure she didn't," I replied mendaciously.
Dicky looked at me curiously. Whether he believed me or not I do not know. At any rate, he did not press the question.
Neither did he again refer to Dr. Pettit, to my sincere relief.
We made a merry picnic of our impromptu luncheon, and after it, when we were dried by the sun, we spent a comfortable lazy two hours lounging on the beach.
If I had not seen Grace Draper's blanched face and the terrible look in her eyes when she had heard Dicky's exclamation of indifference toward her, I would not have dreamed that her heart held any other emotion except that of happy enjoyment of the day. She laughed and chatted as if she had not a care in the world, directing much of her conversation to me. It crossed my mind that for some reason of her own she was trying to make it appear to every one that we were on especially friendly terms.
It was after one of Dicky's periodical trips to Jim's fire, which Harry Underwood did not allow him to forget, and his report that the dinner would be shortly forthcoming, that Grace Draper rose and said carelessly: "Suppose we all have another dip before dinner; there won't be time before we leave for a swim afterward, and the water is too fine to miss going in once more. What do you say, Mrs. Graham? Will you race me?"