en their
places in the dory, and he confronted her, pulling hard at the oars. He
did not lift his eyes to hers, but from time to time he looked over his
shoulder at the boat's prow, and he rowed from one point to another for
a good landing. A dreamy pity for him filled her; through the memories
of her own suffering, she divined the soreness of his heart.

She started from her reverie as the bottom of the dory struck the sand.
The shoal water stretched twenty feet beyond. He pulled in the oars and
rose desperately. "It's of no use: I shall have to carry you ashore."

She sat staring up into his face, and longing to ask him something, to
accuse him of having done this purposely. But she had erred in so many
doubts, her suspicions of him had all recoiled so pitilessly upon her,
that she had no longer the courage to question or reproach him. "Oh, no,
thank you," she said weakly. "I won't trouble you. I--I will wait till
the tide is out."

"The tide's out now," he answered with coldness, "and you can't wade."

She rose desperately. "Why, of course!" she cried in self-contempt,
glancing at the water, into which he promptly stepped to his boot-tops.
"A woman must n't get her feet wet."

VIII.

Grace went to her own room to lay aside her shawl and hat, before going
to Mrs. Maynard, and found her mother sewing there.

"Why, who is with Mrs. Maynard?" she asked.

"Miss Gleason is reading to her," said Mrs. Breen. "If she had any sort
of active treatment, she could get well at once. I couldn't take the
responsibility of doing anything for her, and it was such a worry to
stay and see everything going wrong, that when Miss Gleason came in
I was glad to get away. Miss Gleason seems to believe in your Dr.
Mulbridge."

"My Dr. Mulbridge!" echoed Grace.

"She talked of him as if he were yours. I don't know what you've been
saying to her about him; but you had better be careful. The woman is a
fool." She now looked up at her daughter for the first time. "Why, what
is the matter with you what kept you so long? You look perfectly wild."

"I feel wild," said Grace calmly. "The wind went down."

"Was that all? I don't see why that should make you feel wild," said her
mother, dropping her spectacles to her sewing again.

"It was n't all," answered the girl, sinking provisionally upon the side
of a chair, with her shawl still on her arm, and her hat in her hand.
"Mother, have you noticed anything peculiar about Mr. Libby?"