Saxe was in a whirl of delight. Thus far, he had never enjoyed the like opportunity to be with the girl whom he loved. His heart leaped at the thought of it, and his eyes were tender and happy as they met hers.
“What do I think of it?” he repeated. His voice was so charged with adoration that the rich color flooded Margaret’s cheeks. “Why, I think it will be splendid! Shall we start right away?”
The girl laughed, in some confusion, and her glance wandered from him.
“Not this very second,” she protested, “for I must change into something different for paddling. Go down and send the others along, and I’ll be with you in ten minutes—no, fifteen.”
Saxe, waiting on the dock with the canoe already launched, smiled a trifle grimly, and admitted that the dearest woman in the world was essentially feminine, for his watch indicated the half-hour since their parting. It was just as he slipped the timepiece back into his pocket that he heard the laughing voice behind him:
“I’m just on time to the second, am I not?”
Saxe turned, to see Margaret, in workman-like gray sweater and short skirt. His gaze, though fond, was mildly reproachful.
“It’s been just half an hour,” he declared.
“Then, I’m on time, to the second as I said.” The girl beamed on him, quite unabashed.
At this astonishing statement, Saxe opened his eyes in wonder.