“It is quite possible,” said Brassid, and the lady opposite barely restrained her inclination to look up. “It is such a delightful little place, and the swimming must be fine.”
Now Miss Princeps did look up. She seemed a little startled, and, then, did Brassid detect a bit of pleasure for her in his announcement? At the same moment all of the six looked toward Miss Princeps and detected her. Perhaps they more than detected her.
“Bill” (that was the porter) “said that you were going up on the morning train.”
Brassid laughed.
“Do you, then, swim?” asked Mrs. Mouthon.
“I am a very good swimmer,” declared Brassid.
Again Miss Princeps looked up, sharply now, not caring that the six again stared at her. She inspected Brassid with some care. She seemed satisfied.
“Miss Princeps swims,” said Miss Carat.
Now the eyes of the lady opposite met the eyes of Brassid in a frank stare. Brassid blushed, as we do when we think we have overstated our accomplishments in the presence of some one who knows.
“There is nothing the matter with her,” one of the invalids said, referring to head-troubles, and Brassid answered with tremendous conviction: