Agnes hurried after her, and when they had tramped the beach for a while, they sat down in the sand. Agnes remembered that Isabelle was “queer,” but there was something passionate about the way she threw herself into their reminiscences, that struck her as unnecessary. They spoke of Mrs. Benjamin, with tears on Agnes’s part. She told of Mr. Benjamin’s pitiful efforts to go on with the school. He had been forced to give up the struggle, and Agnes lamented the necessity of going to a new school when she returned to New York.
“Now tell me about you,” she demanded. “Why are you out of school?”
“I hated the school they sent me to last year, so this year I struck and went on the stage for a while.”
“Why, Isabelle Bryce!” cried her friend, thrilled to the bone.
“But I didn’t like it; it made me sick. So I, too came down here to get well.”
She evaded questions on the subject of her stage career, and after some desultory talk they went back to the hotel. People were strolling to the beach for the bathing hour.
“Let’s find Percy and go in,” said Agnes.
Isabelle, having agreed to meet them on the beach, hurried off to change. Miss Watts went down to the sea with her; she did not wait for Agnes and Percy. She struck out for the farther raft. There was one a hundred feet from shore, and one farther out, for expert swimmers. She had just passed the former when she became aware of some one in her wake, some one coming with speed. She slowed up a little.
“What do ye mean by swimmin’ off alone like this?” demanded a well-known voice. She made no answer, but she did not increase her speed. He came up beside her. “This is plain childish folly, that’s what it is,” he blustered.
Isabelle rolled on her back and smiled faintly at the sky.