“How would you like to go for a little row?” asked Tom. “I can get a boat and we’ll go to Crest Island.”
“That will be lovely. The water is like glass.”
They were soon afloat. Tom was a good oarsman and sent the light craft ahead with powerful strokes. They spent some little time on the island, where other pleasure seekers were, and when the shadows began to lengthen started back.
“I’ve enjoyed it ever so much,” said Miss Tyler gratefully as the craft neared the float adjoining the college boathouse.
“That’s good,” said Tom heartily. “Perhaps you will go again.”
“I probably shall—if any one asks me,” she replied archly, and then he helped her out, whispering as he did so, for there were quite a number on the float, “I’ll be sure to ask you, Madge.” Tom may have imagined it, but he thought there was just a little return of the pressure when he pressed the hand he held.
“Well, I thought you were going to wait for me,” exclaimed a voice, and Langridge pushed his way through the throng and came close to where Miss Tyler was standing, waiting for Tom to tie the boat.
“I didn’t say so,” she answered.
“But you—you——” Langridge did not know what to say.