"This is your first outing on the lake?" he asked gently.
"Yes, my first. It is delightful," she replied softly.
"Then you cannot direct me which way to row," he asked.
"That little bend," she answered, nodding her head toward an outlet a hundred feet in advance, "leads to the next lake. There is a perfect chain of six lakes, six miles in all, and each as beautiful as this one, so they say."
"Not dangerous in a storm?" asked George, watching carefully a few approaching clouds.
"They say not, except in case of a wind storm. Then the lakes shut in by the hills, get the full force of the wind. That is a rare occasion, though."
Thus ordinary conversation put them more at ease.
On they conversed, and on they rowed, passed the first three lakes, disguising from one another the keen delight each one felt, at this drifting alone together through the calm stillness of nature.
Several times George stopped and listened for the sound of oars which would signify Alma's coming. But each time all was silent, and on they spun.
Edith was surprised at her own happiness. Was it nature's whispering or George's strong, manly presence, that made her feel so sure of herself, and subdued her restless spirit?