"A squall can come up, any minute—a regular tornado—and blow you and your shell of a boat to Jericho."
"And what would you do, Miss Stillwater," asked Lord Canning, in visible alarm, "if you were out in your little canoe, and were caught in one of these sudden squalls?"
"Head for the shore. Besides, I'm a swimmer."
"Are you?" She looked very young to him, standing there in her little, short skirt and loose blouse, her hair blowing about in the breeze, which came freshly over the lake. Younger, even, than when he had first seen her.
"Now, Lord Stafford," said Mrs. Bunker, after breakfast. "You, my daughter, and myself, will take a trip in 'The Indiana.' The horses will be waiting at the landing, and after we have explored the lake, I think we'll have time for a short drive. Will that program suit you?"
"Ha, ha, ha! Everything that you arrange is bound to be delightful, Mrs. Bunker."
"We'll leave the young people to their own devices. Lord Canning is so bent on learning to row an Adirondack boat."
"Ha, ha, ha! Yes, Mrs. Bunker."
"It's a dangerous lake, Lord Stafford—I warned him."
"You did, Mrs. Bunker—your conscience can rest easily."