They had some difficulty in finding vacant dressing-boxes; every one seemed occupied, and sometimes by the wet and dry together. Finally they were lucky in finding three, in which a party of Kooringal girls were dressing after their bathe; and having inherited these damp and darksome abodes, were quickly ready for the water. Making for the nearest steps, they dived in, swam out to a raised platform in the middle of the deep part of the baths, and sat on it for a moment to rest.
“Glorious, isn’t it!” ejaculated Helen. “Look at those girls!”—as two swimmers flashed by, using a powerful trudgeon stroke. “They’re practising for the swimming carnival. Now, I wonder did she mean to do that?” she added, as Jo tumbled off the platform in a casual manner, and disappeared.
“Don’t know,” Jean answered, laughing. “I’ll go and see!” She tumbled in, in the same fashion, and fell squarely upon her twin, who was just rising to the surface. They vanished together, to reappear, presently, having apparently had a heated altercation under water.
“With all the sea to jump into, she had to choose the exact spot I was using!” grumbled Jo, laughing.
“That’s because you’re twinses, and have everything alike,” said Nita. “Come on—let’s go out to the deep end. I’ll race you!” She went off, with swift overarm strokes. Nita was the champion swimmer of the private schools, and Merriwa was justly proud of her. Therefore they reviled her as they panted after her, finally reaching the deep end to find her placidly floating on her back.
“Old leviathan!” grumbled Helen affectionately, turning on her back near her.
“I splash horribly, but I get there—some time or other,” panted Gladys. “Nita, how do you manage to swim as fast as a porpoise, which you resemble, and never make a bubble of splash?”
“All done by kindness!” said Nita, lazily.
“Let’s lean on you, Nita, darling!” The twins arrived on either side of her, and leant, heavily and suddenly. Nita went under for an instant, and reappearing, with a roll which in truth was like that of a porpoise, ducked them both, in a thorough and scientific manner. Every one seemed to become involved in the process, and the sea was churned by the throes of the Merriwiggians. Ellen Webster was the first to emerge from the turmoil. She swam to the nearest steps, and sat upon the lowest, drawing her knees up to her chin.
“You look like a witch brooding over the deep!” Gladys told her. Ellen was small, with rather sharp features and twinkling eyes, and the insult held a certain amount of truth.