“Look, look!” cried Millie in strong agitation.
And, as they looked, a slim figure in white came quietly out of the temple, a smile—and, alas! no vestige of a blush—on her face, walked composedly down the steps, and, standing on the lowest one, thence—did not throw herself into the water—but called, in the most natural voice in the world, “Which of you is coming to fetch me?”
Charlie looked at Calder. Calder said,
“I think you’d better put her across, old man. And—er—we might as well walk on.”
They turned away, Millie’s eyes wide in surprise, Mrs. Marland smiling the smile of triumphant sagacity.
“I was coming to you to-morrow,” cried Charlie the moment his canoe bumped against the stops.
“What do you mean, sir, by staying away a whole week? How could you?”
“I don’t know,” said Charlie. “You see, I couldn’t come till Calder——
“Oh, what about Calder?”
“He’s all right.”