H. B. Marriott Watson

“ Stubbs is sure to be on his way here. It's really abominable the way he is delaying."
The storm was passing, and in the south gleams of the sun appeared. The rain was like a retreating phantom in the sky. As he stood there so submissively, Molly's spirits bettered with the improvement of the weather. She rose to her feet.
"It's clearing," she observed.
"It's a pity we can't cheat this dilatory rescue party," he said. "I hate being indebted to people, don't you?"
He eyed her curiously, and Molly was conscious that he had pulled her out of the canoe. ”

“ He had reacquired his stolid demeanour and was gazing once more into the storm. Molly mentally shrugged her shoulders. How stupid he was! The rain poured on the easel in front. She could not stand it any longer and spoke.
"Your picture will be ruined," she said.
He turned his head towards it critically. "It is possible," he said, "if that is capable of ruin which I had some misgivings about the oil. I half thought it ought to have been water, and it is, now, you see. Nature is always right."
"I didn't know you painted," said Molly. ”

“ Wouldn't you like to be married to him, Molly?" asked Eilean of her graceful sister.
"How absurd! Of course not! He's always shooting things in Africa," said Molly languidly.
"All old families die out," remarked Marjorie complacently.
"You little duffer; they don't!" said Eilean.
"They do. I read it in a paper somewhere," said Marjorie, willing to embark on an argument at once. "They always die out."
"We haven't died out," said Eilean scathingly.
That was obvious, and for a moment took Marjorie aback, but she recovered hesitatingly. "We shall," she pronounced; "you'll see if we don't." ”

“ Somehow this annoyed Molly. "I don't see why people should be expected to be able to do everything."
Tiggy pondered. "No; I think that's fair," he said. "And, you see, he paints."
Molly was cross, and when she met her sisters a little later, was crosser still.
"Aren't you going to marry him? Didn't he save your life?" cried Marjorie in anxious excitement.
"Good gracious me, no!" said Molly with lofty anger. "There was no question of saving anyone's life. Don't be absurd, child. And if anyone saved anyone, it was Tiggy."
"Are you going to marry Tiggy?" inquired Marjorie, interested. ”

“ The rain plumped heavily in dense, straight sheets about them. The umbrella wobbled and would have fallen, but he put out a hand and saved it, holding it in position. His arm was thus at the back of her, and it irked her as a sort of familiarity.
"Shall we tell each other stories? " he asked. "It will while away the time till the rescue party arrives. My story is the story of the man who could not swim."
"I think every man should be able to swim," said Molly disdainfully.
"And I think every woman should be——" she turned her face slightly towards him, "beautiful," he ended. ”

“ Somehow the glory of the adventure was fading. She had only been engaged in it with a man who could not swim. Looking up, a boat caught her eye. "Tiggy!" she shouted. The Hon. Roger Martin brought to land the nose of the boat which was being laboured up the tinged stream by himself and Stubbs the gardener. He adjusted his eyeglass.
"Not drowned, Molly?" he asked, staring at her companion. ”

“ Molly looked at it hesitatingly. "Ye—es," she said, "if you think it's really safe."
"Safe as shipboard," he said cheerily. "We can pole along beautifully. And when Stubbs comes, he will find the prisoners flown."
He stooped and by the application of stout arms succeeded in pushing the great bough into the stream, where it lay half-submerged. "If you sit towards the thick part and hold on to this outstanding branch, you will be as right as a trivet," he went on.
Molly gingerly stepped aboard the craft and stood clutching the branch. ”

“ She shook it off.
"Please come this way," he commanded, and obeying the new note of authority in his tone, she followed him to the further edge of the island, where she was surprised to find an easel erected. Quickly he unfolded a huge white artist's umbrella and pushed a stool forward. "Sit under this, please. It will keep the worst off," he said. Molly obeyed again, and the rain beat upon the umbrella. The young man stood a few paces away, regarding the black sky critically.
"You are getting wet yourself," she said presently. "Won't you come under?" ”

“ Of course, it's different for children," she observed. "It's easy enough," and she reached round for a paddle. That action set the crazy canoe wobbling, and Molly clutched the sides. "Oh, Eily, hold it!" she gasped.
But the alarm proved false, and she recovered her eighteen-year-old dignity.
"You must have shoved it," she said.
"I didn't shove it," said Eilean indignantly. "It's you. You don't know how to manage a canoe."
"Indeed!" said her sister loftily, waving a paddle in the air. "Well, you'll see."
She dipped it in a gingerly fashion in the water, and the craft rolled over. "Oh!" ”

“ The young man fought, as is the duty and privilege of the male, and presently conquered. The umbrella resumed its pacific mien and once more protected them, and Molly's stool was removed to a more secure place. ”

“ She obeyed him, and their vessel glided down the channel, the young man directing it with his pole.
"It will be easier to go with the current than get her across to the bank," he explained. "We'll strike the bank lower down." ”