"I've often sailed there," remarked Athalie. "Can you sail a boat?"
"No."
"It is easy.... I could teach you if you are going to stay a while."
"We are going back to New York to-morrow morning.... How did you learn to sail a boat?"
"Why, I don't know. I've always lived here. Mr. Ledlie has a boat. Everybody here knows how to manage a cat-boat.... If you'll come down this summer I'll teach you. Will you?"
"I will if I can."
They were silent for a few minutes. It grew very dark in the bar-room, and the light from the stove glimmered redder and redder.
The boy and girl lay back in their chairs, lingering over their peach pastry, and inspecting each other with all the frank insouciance of childhood.
Athalie still wore the red hood and cloak which had represented her outer winter wardrobe for years. Her dull, thick gold hair curled crisply over the edges of the hood which framed in its oval the lovely features of a child in perfect health.
The boy, dark-haired and dark-eyed, gazed fascinated and unembarrassed at this golden blond visitor hooded and cloaked in scarlet.