“Now, Dick—please let go my hand—you promised, you know—”
“What is a promise now! If you knew how you torture me when you lead me on till I'm half wild and then change around till I don't know what I've said or what you've said or hardly who I am—”
“No, Dick, you mustn't—I mean it. We must go in. See, there's father on the beach. It must be supper-time.”
“Wait a minute—I haven't half told you—”
But she was merciless. The Captain came about and headed shoreward.
“Did you meet the revenue cutter anywhere up the Lake—the Foote? She was here yesterday.”
“There you are again, all changed around! What do I care about the Foote—when I'm just waiting to hear you say the only word that can make my life worth living. Now, Annie—”
“You mustn't, Dick. I've let you say too much now. If you go on, you 'll make me feel that I can't even thank you for your present.”
“Was that all? Were you only thanking me?”
She nodded, and Dick's face fell into gloom. But when the Captain was beached, and Annie had leaped lightly over the rail, she turned and gave him one merry blushing look that completely reversed the effect of her reproof. And as she hurried up to the house, he could only gaze after her helplessly.