ing so unbecoming."

"Sylvia Lacey, lift up your arms this minute," commanded Miss Martha.
"I wore one for weeks. As it was, I pinched Benny a number of times
when I thought I was going down. Poor child, I distinctly remember a
black and blue spot on his cheek where I kicked him one day."

"Miss Sylvia, I'm growing awfully frightened," said John, while he
buckled. "Do you inherit your aunt's warlike propensities? You don't
need to pull out my hair. I'll give you a lock of it in exchange for
one of your curls." He had been observing the auburn rings that escaped
under the front of the little oilskin cap.

"So ignominious," said Sylvia, looking over her person with disfavor.

"After you get into the water I'll take it off the minute you say,"
returned Dunham. "Let's make a bet, Miss Lacey. How long do you think
she will keep it on?"

"Mr. Dunham, this is Sunday," returned Miss Martha.

"Oh, so it is. Well, I'll go and do penance. Look your last on my manly
beauty, Miss Martha. We're off. Which side of the house does your niece
take after?"

"What do you mean? She's a Lacey to the backbone."

John groaned. "Then the last hope has fled. I thought that perhaps the
ingratiating Trent characteristics might come to the rescue, but now,
expect to see me return bald and disfigured."

"Come on, you lazy people," called Edna; "it's glorious."

"O-o-o, 'where corals lie, where corals lie,'" shuddered Sylvia, as she
ran down the steps. "Just look at that mermaid. Isn't it fun? It is as
poetical as those Elgar songs. She could just make up her mind to go
down, and--_go_!"

"Well, shall we go too?" John offered his hand. She put hers into it.
"Are you game to jump?" he added.

"In a life-preserver!" ejaculated Sylvia in smiling contempt. "Yes.
There," meeting Edna's eyes as she floated at ease, "there is the
poetry. Here comes the prose tumbling after."

Physical timidity was no part of Sylvia's nature; and now secure in the
consciousness of the life-preserver, and that Dunham would take care of
her anyway, and incited by the desire to appear courageous in his eyes,
it was easy for her to take the leap. John jumped with her.

Despite her brave intention a gasping shriek burst from her as she
struck the flood. She was prepared not to be afraid of the depth of the
water, but she had forgotten its temperature.

"Oh, it's so cold!" she cried.

"No, this is quite warm," said John. "The wind has blown the surface
water in