Miss Gower takes the pen, plunges it into the ink, and writes her name. It is not until to-morrow that she remembers that the cheque was drawn out in every way, except for her signature.
"Ah, we may yet reach the shore alive!" says Mr. Gower, in a depressing tone, putting in the plug.
When they reach it, he gives his arm to his aunt, and, in the tenderest fashion, helps her along the short pathway that leads to the house.
In the hall quite a large number of people are assembled, and everyone runs toward them.
"Why, we thought you were lost," says Mrs. Chichester.
"Yes, so we were very nearly," says Mr. Gower, shaking his head and advancing into the hall with the languid airs of one who has just undergone a strange experience.
"But how—how?" They all crowd round him now.
"Poor aunt and I were nearly drowned," says Mr. Gower pathetically. He takes a step forward, and the water drips from his trousers. He looks back at Miss Gower. "Weren't we?" says he.
"But you are dripping!" cries Tita, "whilst Miss Gower seems quite dry. Dear Miss Gower," turning anxiously to that spinster, "I hope you are not wet."
"Ah! she was so nice, so nice," says Randal sweetly, "that she wouldn't let me do much for her. But if you will just look under her petticoats I am afraid you will——"