r," says Dr. Conrad, as they row to shore with
studied slowness--one must, to keep down to the pace of the swiftest
swimmer--"I always wonder whether they found that half-crown." Probably
he, too, only says this to accentuate the not-necessarily-to-be-avoided
character of the subject.

The reason Fenwick answered nothing, but remained thoughtfully silent,
was, as Dr. Vereker perceived after he had spoken, that the half-crown
was mere hearsay to him, and, as such, naturally enforced speculation
on the strange "B.C." period of which he knew nothing. Time did
but little to minimise the painful character of such speculations,
although it seemed to make them less and less frequent. Vereker said
no more, partly because he felt this, partly because he was so
engrossed with the Loreley. He dropped the half-crown.

"You needn't row away yet," said the voice from the water. "The
machines are miles off. Look here, I'm going to swim under the boat
and come up on the other side!"

Said Fenwick: "You'll be drowned, Sarah, before you've done! Do
consider your mother a little!"

Said the Loreley: "All right! good-bye!" and disappeared. She was so
long under that it was quite a relief when she reappeared, well off
the boat's counter; for, of course, there was some way on the boat,
and Sally made none. The crew's eyes had been watching the wrong water
over the beam.

"Didn't I do that nicely?... 'Beautifully?' Yes, I should rather
think I did! Good-bye; I must go to my machine! They won't leave it
down any longer."

Off went the swimmer in the highest spirits, and landed with some
difficulty, so much had the south-west wind freshened; and the machine
started up the beach at a brisk canter to rejoin its many unused
companions on their higher level.

* * * * *

Dr. Conrad, with the exhilaration of the Loreley in his heart, was
to meet with a damper administered to him by his affectionate parent,
who had improved immensely in the sea air, and was getting quite an
appetite.

"There is nothing, my dear, that I detest more cordially than
interference," said she, after accepting, rather more easily than
usual, her son's apologies for coming in late to lunch, and also being
distinctly gracious to Mrs. Iggulden about the beefsteak-pudding.
"Your father disapproved of it, and the whole of my family. The words
'never meddle' were on their lips from morning till night. Is it
wonderful that I abstain from s