Herbert looked decidedly uncomfortable and as if he wished he were not there. The truth was that he did not feel by any means at home in a sailing-boat, and would have very much preferred to row, or, better still, not to go on the water at all. However, if Maud wished it, there was no more to be said. The Foresters had a rowing-boat which would quite well have accommodated the party, but Maud had made up her mind for a sail, and a sail she would have, or nothing.
Blanche felt very much divided between her duty to her guest and to her friend. She was half ashamed that Maud should suggest taking possession of Dr. Hunter's boat against his orders, and was inclined to wish that, if Maud insisted upon going, Marjory would give in and go too.
"Come, Marjory," coaxed Maud, "don't be silly. It'll be all right, I promise you."
"It's no use; I won't come," replied Marjory stoutly.
"Well, I call it very selfish of you," said Maud, her temper rising. "And I'm sure the doctor never meant that you were not to go at all, only that you were not to go alone; and I'm also quite sure that if he were here he would let us have the boat this minute."
"Yes, if he were here and could go with you himself," retorted Marjory.
"Oh, very well, if you won't take us, Herbert will.—Won't you?" And Maud turned appealingly to him.
Poor Herbert was in a tight place, as he would have expressed it. First and foremost, he was anxious to please Maud and to stand well in her estimation, but he had no confidence in his own powers of managing a sailing-boat; besides, he knew something of the loch and its ways, and how storms little and big could rise suddenly and without warning. Another thing—he did not much like the idea of going off in Dr. Hunter's boat without his permission, for although pretty, spoiled Maud had no dread of the stern, eccentric doctor, Herbert did not by any means share her fearless attitude towards him.
Poor Herbert was hesitating on the side of prudence, when Maud decided matters by saying with a pout,—
"You don't seem very keen either. I must say I think it's awfully mean of you two.—Come on, Blanche; you and I will go, and it'll be their fault if we're drowned."