"In the name of Heaven, who are you?" he stammered as he sat down, awkwardly, beside her.
She laughed outright—mischievously, mockingly.
"I? I am the nymph of the lake. Long years ago I was the naiad of the woodland spring that is now deep down yonder," indicating a spot out in the lake. "But they dammed me in and turned great floods of water in here, and mighty Jupiter gave me my new title."
"And are you really half fish?"
She laughed again.
"I am what you see."
As she spoke she gracefully swayed the lower half of her in the water. A million glistening scales prismatically reflected the increasing morning light. She was half fish, all right. There was no doubt about that.
"By gosh! here's a rum go!" muttered Edwin to himself.
"What did you say?" queried the mermaid.
"I said, if you must know, 'By Jove! you are a beauty,'" he replied, gallantly and impetuously.