The little breeze had held all night, and this morning the trees and shrubs were quite dry again, but looking better for their bath. It was Sunday, and as the canoe floated into the harbor of the lotus pool a distant church bell was ringing. Perhaps, he told himself with a sudden sinking of the heart, he was doomed to another day without sight of Clytie; for it might be that the family would drive to church. But the first fair look about him dispelled his forebodings. She was standing at the border of the pool throwing crumbs of bread to the swans. She saw him at almost the same moment and smiled. more river
[114]
“Don’t come any nearer, please,” she said. “You’ll scare them.”
He dipped his paddle obediently and sat silent in the rocking craft until the last crumb had been distributed and she had brushed the crumbs from her outstretched hands. Stooping, she picked a book from the grass and faced him.
 
SHE WAS THROWING CRUMBS OF BREAD TO THE SWANS.
“May I come ashore?” he asked.
“You are already trespassing dreadfully,” she objected.
“‘In for a penny, in for a pound,’” he replied, sending the canoe forward. “‘Might as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb.’ And if I could think of any other proverbs applicable to the matter I’d quote them.” He jumped out and pulled the bow of the canoe onto the turf.
“You won’t mind, however, if I[115] decline to stay and be hung with you?” she asked.
“On the contrary, I should mind very much. In fact, I demand that you remain and go bail for me in case I’m apprehended.”
“I fear I couldn’t afford it,” she answered.
“Doubtless your word would serve,” he said. “Perhaps, if you told them the excellent character I bear, you might get me off scot-free.”
“But I don’t think I know enough about your character.”
“There’s something in that,” he allowed. “Perhaps you had better observe me closely for the next hour or two. One can learn a great deal about another person’s character by observation.”
“How can I do that if I go to church?”
[116]
“You can’t. That’s one reason why you’re not going to church.”
“Oh! And—are there other reasons?”
“Yes.”
“Perhaps you had better give a few of them. I don’t think the first one is especially convincing.”
“Well, another one is that I haven’t seen you for three days.”
She shook her head gravely.
Clytie
“Go on, please.”
“Not good enough? Well, then, another reason is that you haven’t seen me for three days.”
She laughed amusedly.
“Worse and worse,” she said.
“I didn’t think you’d care much for that argument,” he responded cheerfully. “It was somewhat in the nature of an experiment, you see. But the real unanswerable reason is this:[117] I have missed seeing you very much, I have been very dull, you are naturally kind-hearted and would not unnecessarily cause pain or disappointment, and I beg of you to give me a few moments of your cheerful society! Is that—better?”
“I don’t particularly care for it.”
“Miss Devereux——”
“What have I told you?” she warned.
“I beg pardon! But—now, really, please let me call you by a Christian name! I—I’d like to graduate from mythology.”
“I don’t think it would be proper for you to call me by my Christian name,” she answered demurely.
“A Christian name, I said,” he answered patiently. “Tell me why you don’t want me to address you as Miss Devereux, please.”
[118]
“Because——” She stopped and dropped her gaze. “We’ve never been properly introduced, have we?”
“True! Allow me, pray! Miss Devereux, may I present Mr. Parmley? Mr. Parmley, Miss Devereux!” He stepped forward, smiling politely and murmuring his pleasure, and ere she knew what was happening he was shaking hands with her. “Awfully glad to meet you, Miss Devereux!” he assured her cordially.
he was shaking hands with her
She backed away, striving to draw her hand from his, and laughing merrily.
“Is that what you call a proper introduction?” she asked.
“Well, it’s the best I could do under the circumstances,” Ethan answered. “Having no mutual acquaintances handy, you see——”
“Don’t you think—you might let go[119] now?” she asked, her laughter dying down to a nervous smile.
“Let go?” he echoed questioningly.
“Please! You have my hand!”
He looked down at it in mild surprise; then into her face.
“Isn’t that the strangest thing? I was never so surprised——!”
“But—Mr. Parmley, please let go,” she begged.
“You don’t mean to say that I still have it?” He tried to seem at ease and to speak carelessly, but his heart was pounding as though striving to do the Anvil Chorus all by itself, and his voice wasn’t quite steady.
“I do,” she answered coldly, biting her lip a little. A disk of red burned in each cheek. Her eyes were fixed on his imprisoning hand. “Besides, you are hurting me,” she added, falling[120] back upon the fib which is a woman’s last resource in such a quandary. But he shook his head soberly.
“Pardon me, but that’s impossible. You will observe that my hand is quite loose about yours. Accuse me of unlawful detention, if you wish, but not of cruelty.”
“But—but it is my hand,” she protested faintly.
“Well, that is nothing to boast of,” he replied smiling somewhat tremulously. She had kept her eyes from him all along and he was determined to see them before he gave up. “Look at mine; it’s twice as big!”
The brown lashes fluttered for an instant and Ethan nerved himself for the shock of looking into those violet eyes. He didn’t know what was going to happen, he assured himself in a sudden delicious panic, and he didn’t[121] much care. Probably he would do something awfully rude, something that would frighten and anger her, something for which she would never forgive him! Perhaps the sudden trembling of his hand about hers warned her, for the lashes lay still again. A moment of silence followed, during which Ethan’s heart threatened to choke him. Then all at once the little warm hand ceased tugging and lay limp and inert in his. She turned her head and looked toward the trees and the shade.
“If we are going to hold hands for any length of time,” she remarked coolly, “perhaps we had better sit down and be comfortable.”
Ethan released her instantly, while a wave of burning color swept across his face. He felt terribly small and ridiculous! He realized that he had[122] taken it for granted that she had been experiencing emotions similar to his own, and instead of that she had been only bored and—and exasperated! He followed her laggingly up the slope, savagely calling himself names and meditating a retirement in such order as was still possible. She seated herself comfortably on the grass with her back against the smooth round trunk of a maple and patted down her skirts. Then she glanced up at him calmly.
“Do you realize,” she asked, “that you have made me late for church?”
He was grateful for that ready change of subject and piqued that she should be so little disconcerted. His own heart was still dancing.
“I am an humble instrument of Providence,” he answered as lightly as he could, dropping to the ground[123] at a respectful distance from the tips of her small shoes.
Ethan and Clytie on the bank
“That sounds a little sacrilegious,” she said. “Besides—humble?”
“Humble, yes,” he answered. “I can’t think of a better word, unless it is ‘abashed.’”
“But why do you call yourself an instrument of Providence? Because you live there?”
“‘That sounds a little sacrilegious,’” he quoted. “I meant that if you had gone to church you would have made yourself very warm and possibly returned with a headache. I have saved you from that.”
“Thank you! But of course if it hadn’t been for the introduction I couldn’t have stayed!”
“That is understood,” he responded with becoming gravity. She smiled across as though amused by some[124] thought, and Ethan felt vaguely uncomfortable.
“It’s possible,” she said thoughtfully, “that you might have found a mutual acquaintance after all to perform the ceremony for you.”
“Oh, I dare say; one usually can if one hunts long enough. It’s a common enough process, and not especially difficult. For instance, I ask, ‘You are acquainted in Boston, Miss Dev—Miss Unknown!’ You reply ‘Slightly, Mr. Parmley.’ ‘Perhaps you know the Smiths?’ ‘Smith, Smith? N—no, I don’t think so. Are they friends of the Joneses?’ ‘I dare say; I’ve never met the Joneses. Come to think of it, though, there were some Joneses visiting the Robinsons at Nahant last summer; he is a banker, I think; there were two daughters and a son just entering college,’ ‘Oh, were you at Nahant?’[125] you inquire. ‘Then perhaps you met the Browns there?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Really? Isn’t that jolly? Did you know Gwendolin?’ ‘Well, rather!’ I reply in a tone insinuating that it was rather desperate while it lasted. ‘Isn’t that odd?’ you exclaim. ‘Yes, funny how small the world is, isn’t it?’ I remark with startling originality. Then we’re acquainted. Yes, it’s simplicity itself.”
“It certainly sounds so!” she laughed. “Let us try it!”
“Very well.”
She frowned intently for a moment, then,
“Are you acquainted in Stillhaven, Mr. Parmley?” she asked.
“Why, yes,” he answered, in surprise.
“Then perhaps you know the—the Penniwells?”
[126]
“Sorry to say I don’t,” he replied, laughing.
“No? They live in the next house to the hotel.”
“Hotel? Ah, I think I’ve met the Hotels! Was there a son about my age, with——”
“Don’t be absurd!” she laughed. “We’ll never get on if you don’t go by the rules.”
“I thought I was,” he answered.
“Let me see! Oh, yes, the Graveses, do you know them?”
“Why, yes; do you?” he answered interestedly.
“I’ve met them.”
“Vincent is a great friend of mine,” he said eagerly. “I was on my way to visit them for a while when—when I stopped here.”
“Really?” she cried. “How small the world is, after all!”
[127]
They laughed............