“Go back,” cried Elizabeth over her shoulder, “go back. I’m going in alone this time.”
And alone she went until once more the water surged and rippled about her neck. Only an instant—then she swayed and her eyes closed; but before she could lose her footing Olga’s hands were on her shoulders and pushing her swiftly back to the beach. This time, however, she did not stop there, but swept the small figure over to the bathhouse. There she gave Elizabeth a brisk rubdown that set the blood dancing in her veins.
“Now get into your clothes in a hurry!” she commanded.
“I’m—n-not c-cold, Olga,” Elizabeth protested with a pallid smile, “truly I’m not. I’m just n-nervous, I guess.”
“You’re just a brick, Elizabeth Page!” cried Olga, and she slammed the door and vanished, leaving Elizabeth glowing with delight.
Each day after that Elizabeth insisted on venturing a little more. Olga could guess what it cost her—her blue lips and the terror in her eyes told that—but day after day she fought her battle over and would not be worsted. She learned to float, to tread water, and then, very, very slowly, she learned to swim a little. Laura, looking on, rejoiced over both the girls. Everybody was interested in this marvellous achievement of the Poor Thing—they spoke of her less often by that name now—but only Laura realised how much it meant to Olga too. The day that Elizabeth succeeded in swimming a few yards, Olga for the first time took her out on the water at sunset; she had never been willing to go before. Even now she stepped into the boat shrinkingly, the colour coming and going in her cheeks, but when she was seated, and the boat floating gently on the rose-tinted water, the tense lines faded slowly from her face, and at last she even smiled a little.
“Well,” said Olga, “are you still scared?”
“A little—but not much. If I wasn’t any afraid it would be lovely—like rocking in a big, big beautiful cradle,” she ended dreamily.
A swift glance assured Olga that they had drifted away from the other boats—there was no one within hearing. She leaned forward and looked straight into the eyes of the other girl. “Now I want to know what made you get over your fear of the water,” she said.
“Maybe I’ve not got over it—quite,” Elizabeth parried.