Miss West usually took a brisk pull in her own boat before breakfast; a habit which lured many indolent young gentlemen out of their beds at unaccustomed hours, in the hope that they might have the honor of splashing their legs helping her off, the privilege of wishing her "Bon voyage," or the crowning rapture of accompanying her.
On the morning after her "fit," as she called the discontent of a really fine nature with the empty life she led, she was up and out unusually early; for she had kept her room with a headache all the evening, and now longed for fresh air and exercise.
As she prepared the "Gull" for a start, she was idly wondering what early bird would appear eager to secure the coveted worm, when a loud and cheerful voice was heard calling,—
"Hullo, Anna!" and a nautically attired gentleman hove in sight, waving his hat as he hailed her.
She started at the unceremonious salute and looked back. Then her whole face brightened beautifully as she sprang up the bank, saying, with a pretty mixture of hesitation and pleasure,—
"Why, Frank, is that you?"
"Do you doubt it?"
And the new-comer shook both her hands so vigorously that she winced a little as she said, laughing,—
"No, I don't. That is the old squeeze with extra power in it."
"How are you? Going for a pull? Take me along and show me the lions. There's a good soul."