They reached the boat-house in time to see Indiana jump from her canoe.
"An extremely picturesque little craft," said Lord Canning, after they had exchanged the morning greetings.
"Birch bark," said Indiana. "There's another here."
"Ah, a white one. But this red canoe is very effective on the lake. We were quite startled, when you first appeared. Were we not, Uncle?"
"Ha, ha, ha, ha. My nephew thought you were the spirit of some Indian maiden, who had died a tragic death."
"You glided out of the mist in such a wraith-like fashion," said Lord Canning.
"There was an Indian maiden"—
"Oh, keep those ghost stories for the camp fire, Indiana! Before breakfast is no time for them."
"Don't forget, please, Miss Stillwater!" said Lord Canning. "Positively at the camp fire to-night."
"At the camp fire to-night," repeated Indiana, in a tragic voice.