full length--felt the water gushing into the neck of her
dress, running down her back, flowing between her breasts; felt her
sleeves drenched against her arms; she sprang up, fell again, her head
under water, her face scraping the pebbly sharpness of the river
bed,--again got on to her feet and ran choking and coughing, stumbling
and slipping, back to the sand-spit, and the shore. There she stood,
soaking wet, gasping. Her hat was gone, her hair dripping about her
face. "_I can't_," she said.

She climbed up the bank, catching at the grass and twigs, and feeling
her tears running hot over the icy wetness of her cheeks. When she
reached the top she picked up her coat with numb, shaking hands and,
shivering violently, put it on with a passionate desire for warmth.

"I tried; I _tried_," she said; "but--I can't!"

CHAPTER XXXIV

It was after ten o'clock that night when Eleanor's icy fingers fumbled
at Mrs. Newbolt's doorbell. The ring was not heard at first, because her
aunt and Edith Houghton and Johnny Bennett were celebrating his
departure the next day for South America, by making a Welsh rabbit in a
chafing dish before the parlor fire. Mrs. Newbolt, entering into the
occasion with voluble reminiscences, was having a very good time. She
liked Youth, and she liked Welsh rabbits, and she liked an audience; and
she had all three! Then the doorbell rang. And again.

"For Heaven's sake!" said Mrs. Newbolt; "at this time of night! Johnny,
the girls have gone to bed; you go and answer it, like a good boy."

"Dump in some more beer, Edith," Johnny commanded, and went out into the
hall, whistling. A moment later the other two heard his startled voice,
"Why, come right in!" There was no reply, just shuffling steps; then
Eleanor, silent, without any hat, her hair plastered down her ghastly
cheeks, her face bruised and soiled with sand, stood in the doorway, the
astonished John Bennett behind her. Everybody spoke at once:

"Eleanor! What has happened?"

"_Eleanor!_ Where is your hat?"

"Good gracious! Eleanor--"

She was perfectly still. Just looking at them, during that blank moment
before everything became a confusion of jostling assistance. Edith
rushed to help her off with her coat. Johnny said, "Mrs. Newbolt, where
can I get some whisky?" Mrs. Newbolt felt the soaking skirt, and tried
to unfasten the belt so that the wet mass might fall to the floor.

Eleanor was rigid. "Get a doctor!" Edith commanded.

J