"I should think I could do it without being taught," said Juliet.
"No, you could not. You would catch crabs, and you would feather in the air, and you would run into the banks, and go aground on the shallows, and be carried over the weirs."
"I should not care," said Juliet. "I could eat the crabs, and make a pillow of the feathers; I am not afraid."
"You have a good deal of pluck for a girl," said Philip; "but don't you get playing with boats, or you will come to grief."
"I sha'n't ask your leave," said Juliet.
"I sha'n't give it," replied Philip with a rough laugh.
And Juliet spoke no more, but knitted her brows fiercely.
When the children landed at the lock, and told of the adventure with the swans, Mrs. Rowles was profuse with praise of Juliet's presence of mind. In fact she was almost too profuse, and wishing to encourage her niece ran the risk of making her conceited. Juliet's brows grew smooth, her eyes brightened, her head rose higher.
"Oh, well," she said aside to Emily, "it is not so difficult to manage a boat if you have your wits about you. When people give way and lose their wits, then it is dangerous, if you like."
Which remarks seemed to Emily extremely sensible, but to Philip, who overheard them, extremely foolish.