Helen laughed outright; her eyes met Bayard’s merrily, and, if he had dared to think so, rather humbly.
“I was very angry with you,” she said.
“I can’t help that,” replied Bayard. “Your father and mother were very anxious about you.”
“Really?”
“Naturally. I was a chartered pirate, at any rate.”
“But I was in no sort of danger, you know. You’ve made a great fuss over nothing.”
“Take these oars,” observed Bayard. “Just let me see you row back to the float.”
Helen took the oars, and pulled a few strokes strongly enough. The veins stood out on her soft forehead, and her breath came hard.
“I had no idea the tide was so strong to-night. The wind seems to be the wrong way, too,” she panted.