e for Cynthia, for he
knew that she did not like him.

Jack did not speak at once, but paddled towards the bank. Then he said:

"You won't try stepping from one canoe to another in mid-stream if I
have anything to say about it."

The change was safely accomplished, and they proceeded down the river
towing the injured boat, the carpet and cushions having been transferred
with the passengers. Relieved of the weight it did not fill as rapidly,
and they at last reached the picnic-ground.

Bronson was mortified at coming back in such ignominious plight, but he
made the best of it.

"I am awfully sorry, Gordon, if it is your canoe. It must have been
pretty frail, though, to go to pieces at a mere scratch."

"She's the finest cedar canoe to be found in the city of Boston, and it
would take more than a mere scratch to do her up this way. From
appearances I should say you had pounded round on the rocks pretty
freely," growled Neal, who had turned the boat upside down, and was
examining it carefully.

Bronson stooped over him. For the moment they were alone.

"Of course I would feel worse about it if it were any one's but yours.
As it is, we'll just call ten off that fifty still owing. That will go
towards repairs. More than cover them, I should say."

Then he sauntered off, his hands in his pockets.

"What a cad the fellow is!" muttered Neal. "It would give me real
pleasure to knock him down."

"I heard him," said Cynthia. Her cheeks were red and her blue eyes had
grown very dark. "He is an odious, hateful creature, and I _de-spise_
him!"

Having delivered herself of this, Cynthia felt better.

They all went home soon afterwards, Edith leaving earlier in the
carriage with Mrs. Franklin, for her shoes and skirts were too wet for
her to wait for the slower movements of the canoes. It was an
unfortunate ending to the day, and Edith was uncomfortable also about
her conversation with Bronson. She knew that she ought not to have
listened to a word of it.

She wondered if it were really true that Neal was in difficulty. She
thought she must talk it over with Cynthia that night. Of course Cynthia
would stand up for Neal, that went without saying, but it was always a
relief to Edith to talk things over with her.

It was a rather silent drive home, and Mrs. Franklin sighed to herself
when Edith barely replied to her remarks. It seemed perfectly hopeless;
she and Edith would never grow any nearer to each other; but there