"No, I don't. I mean it."
"I won't invite him," said Phil doggedly. "I am surprised that you should think of such a thing."
"Propriety, Miss Marion, propriety!" said the young lady, in a tone of mock dignity, turning up the whites of her eyes. "That's just the way my governess used to talk. It's well I've got so experienced a young gentleman to look after me, and see that I don't stumble into any impropriety."
Meanwhile, Grit sat in his boat, waiting for a return passenger, and as he waited he thought of the young lady he had just ferried over.
"I can't see how such a fellow as Phil Courtney can have such a nice cousin," he said to himself. "She's very pretty, too! She isn't stuck-up, like him. I hope I shall get the chance of rowing them back."
He waited about ten minutes, when he saw a gentleman and a little boy approaching the river.
"Are you the ferry-boy?" asked the gentleman.
"Yes, sir."
"I heard there was a boy who would row me across. I want to go to Chester with my little boy. Can you take us over?"
"Yes, sir; I shall be happy to do so."