MARGERY TAKES THE OARS
After dinner Mrs. Archibald prepared herself for a nap, the most delightful thing she could think of during the warm hours of such a day. Margery, after seeing the elder lady comfortably disposed in the shady sitting-room of the cabin, went out-of-doors with no doubt in her mind as to what would be for her the most delightful thing to do. She would take a row on the lake all by herself.
She went down to the boat, which was partly drawn up on the beach and fastened to a heavy stake. But when she reached it she was disgusted to find that the chain was secured to the stake by a padlock. The oars were in the boat, and she could easily have pushed it into the water, but she could not set it free without the key to the padlock.
“I do believe,” she exclaimed, “that the will of that horrid Mr. Sadler is like gas. It goes everywhere, even to the tops of the houses and under the beds.” But she did not give up her intention. She tried to detach the chain from the boat, but finding this impossible, she thought of going for Martin. Perhaps he might have a key. This idea, however, she quickly put aside. If he had a key, and gave it to her, she might get him into trouble, and, besides, she did not believe that he would let her go alone, and in any other way she did not wish to go. Standing with her pretty brows knit, and one heel deep in the soft ground into which she had stamped it, she heard approaching footsteps, and turning, saw the bishop. He came forward with a buoyant step.
“Is there anything I can do for you, Miss Dearborn?” he said. “Do you wish to go out on the lake? Do you want some one to row you?”
“Yes and no,” said Margery. “I want to go out in the boat, and I don’t want anybody to row me. But that chain is fastened with an abominable padlock, and I cannot launch the boat.”
“One of your guides is here,” said he. “Perhaps I can get a key from him.”
“No, no,” said Margery, quickly; “he must not know about it. There is a Sadler law against it, and he is employed by Sadler.”
“It is very securely fastened,” said the bishop, examining the lock and chain. “It is the work of the guide Matlack, I have no doubt. But, Miss Dearborn,” said he, with a bright smile, “there is a boat at Camp Roy. That is not locked, and I can bring it here in twenty minutes.”
“No,” said Margery; “I don’t want that boat. I’ve seen it. It is a clumsy old thing, and, besides, it leaks. I want this one. This is just the kind of boat I want to row. It is too bad! If I could get off now there would be nobody to hinder me, for Martin is washing the dinner dishes, or doing something of that kind, and whenever he does house-work he always keeps himself out of sight.”