Mary was not at all certain about that, but she decided not to be foolish any longer. She waded ashore. There was something boyish about her as she emerged full length into the picture, yet not too boyish. Not only was she lacking a skirt, but also stockings, for when Mary went swimming she put aside frills. The scarlet bathing cap gave her a charming jauntiness; although she was anything but jaunty in mood.
"My, but the sun is comfortable," she said, as she sat down and dug her toes into the sand.
"It'll warm you up," said Pete, affecting to take no notice of her costume. "Say, what do you make out of that yacht, anyhow?"
"It seems to be still going. It looks awfully small to me."
They watched it for another minute.
"There's another landing down that way, where they're headed," said Pete. "Maybe they want to send somebody up to town for something."
"You've been here before, haven't you?"
"Oh, I've valeted 'round a bit in the summers, miss."
She gave him a swift, sidelong glance. Out in the harbor he had dropped the "miss"; the water seemed to have washed away his surface servility. Now he was falling back into the manner of his calling.
"They can't go much farther in that direction," he added. "They've either got to anchor, turn around or stand out for the mouth of the harbor. We'll know in a minute or two, miss."