As It Was in the Beginning

by Philip Verrill Mighels

"Well, rather!" he called out, cheerily. "Stopped like a kid to—examine the geological formation." He started upward promptly, whistling as he went.

It was not, however, without a tremendous effort that he finally pulled himself over the brink, in all the weight of his soaking garments, and struggled to his feet.

"Why—you're wet!" said Elaine, concealing her hands, which were cut and bruised from the heavy stones she had carried. "Did you have to swim to get the ladder?"

He knew her hands were hurt, but maintained his usual manner.

"I did. But the water is warm—in fact, it was very warm, indeed."

"But couldn't you use the raft?"

"I couldn't," he answered, candidly. "The raft got away while I was pothering about, and, unless it faithfully floats ashore, we may never see its honest face again."

Elaine's expression brightened.

"I'm perfectly delighted to hear it! Now you never can go there again!"

Grenville was amused at the turn of her reflections.