Maud was rather busy that morning, but she closed her ledger, selected a walking-stick, and smiled her willingness to aid them.
"It will seem more like real camping-out," said Mr. Jonstone, "if we don't pitch our tent right in the midst of things. Suppose we take a boat and row along the shores of the lake, keeping our eyes peeled."
Maud was not averse to going for a row with two handsome and agreeable young men. They selected a guide boat and insisted on helping her in and cautioning her about sitting in the middle. Maud had almost literally been brought up in a guide boat, but she only smiled discreetly. The cousins matched for places. As Maud sat in the stern with a paddle for steering, Colonel Meredith, who won the toss, elected to row stroke. Bob Jonstone climbed with gingerness and melancholy into the bow. Not only was he a long way from that beautiful girl, but Meredith's head and shoulders almost completely blanketed his view of her.
"We ought to row English style," he said.
"What is English style, and why ought we to row that way?"
"In the American shells," explained Jonstone, "the men sit in the middle. In the English shells each man sits as far from his rowlock as possible."
"Why?" asked Meredith, who understood his cousin's predicament perfectly.
"So's to get more leverage," explained Jonstone darkly.
"It's for Miss Darling to say," said Meredith. "Which style do you prefer, Miss Darling, English or American?"
"I think the American will be more comfortable for you both and safer for us all," said she.