looking for daisies. Could she? Should she?
“I was seeing if there was any way to get out to any of them,” she continued a little nervously, a tremor almost revealing itself in her voice. “I haven’t seen any before just here on this side.”
“I’ll get you all you want,” he exclaimed briskly and gayly. “You just stay where you are. I’ll bring them.” But then, bethinking him of how much more lovely it would be if she were to get in with him, he added: “But see here — why don’t you get in here with me? There’s plenty of room and I can take you anywhere you want to go. There’s lots nicer lilies up the lake here a little way and on the other side too. I saw hundreds of them over there just beyond that island.”
Roberta looked. And as she did, another canoe paddled by, holding a youth of about Clyde’s years and a girl no older than herself. She wore a white dress and a pink hat and the canoe was green. And far across the water at the point of the very island about which Clyde was talking was another canoe — bright yellow with a boy and a girl in that. She was thinking she would like to get in without her companion, if possible — with her, if need be. She wanted so much to have him all to herself. If she had only come out here alone. For if Grace Marr were included, she would know and later talk, maybe, or think, if she heard anything else in regard to them ever. And yet if she did not, there was the fear that he might not like her any more — might even come to dislike her or give up being interested in her, and that would be dreadful.
She stood staring and thinking, and Clyde, troubled and pained by her doubt on this occasion and his own loneliness and desire for her, suddenly called: “Oh, please don’t say no. Just get in, won’t you? You’ll like it. I want you to. Then we can find all the lilies you want. I can let you out anywhere you want to get out — in ten minutes if you want to.”
She marked the “I want you to.” It soothed and strengthened her. He had no desire to take any advantage of her as she could see.
“But I have my friend with me here,” she exclaimed almost sadly and dubiously, for she still wanted to go alone — never in her life had she wanted any one less than Grace Marr at this moment. Why had she brought her? She wasn’t so very pretty and Clyde might not like her, and that might spoil the occasion. “Besides,” she added almost in the same breath and with many thoughts fighting her, “maybe I’d better not. Is it safe?”
“Oh, yes, maybe you better had,” laughed Clyde seeing that she was yielding. “It’s perfectly safe,” he added eagerly. Then maneuvering the canoe next to the bank, which was a foot above the water, and laying hold of a root to hold it still, he said: “Of course you won’t be in any danger. Call your friend then, if you want to, and I’ll row the two of you. There’s room for two and there are lots of water lilies everywhere over there.” He nodded toward the east side of the lake.
Roberta could no longer resist and seized an overhanging branch by which to steady herself. At the same time she began to call: “Oh, Gray-ace! Gray-ace! Where are you?” for she had at last decided that it was best to include her.
A far-off voice as quickly answered: “Hello-o! What do you want?”
“Come up here. Come on. I got something I want to tell you.”
“Oh, no, you come on down here. The daisies are just wonderful.”
“No, you come on up here. There’s some one here that wants to take us boating.” She intended to call this loudly, but somehow her voice failed and her friend went on gathering flowers. Roberta frowned. She did not know just what to do. “Oh, very well, then,” she suddenly decided, and straightening up added: “We can row down to where she is, I guess.”
And Clyde, delighted, exclaimed: “Oh, that’s just fine. Sure. Do get in. We’ll pick these here first and then if she hasn’t come, I’ll paddle down nearer to where she is. Just step square in the center and that will balance it.”
He was leaning back and looking up at her and Roberta was looking nervously and yet warmly into his eyes. Actually it was as though she were suddenly diffused with joy, enveloped in a rosy mist.
She balanced one foot. “Will it be perfectly safe?”
“Sure, sure,” emphasized Clyde. “I’ll hold it safe. Just take hold of that branch there and steady yourself by that.” He held the boat very still as she stepped. Then, as the canoe careened slightly to one side, she dropped to the cushioned seat with a little cry. It was like that of a baby to Clyde.
“It’s all right,” he reassured her. “Just sit in the center there. It won’t tip over. Gee, but this is funny. I can’t make it out quite. You know just as I was coming around that point I was thinking of you — how maybe you might like to come out to a place like this sometime. And now here you are and here I am, and it all happened just like that.” He waved his hand and snapped his fingers.
And Roberta, fascinated by this confession and yet a little frightened by it, added: “Is that so?” She was thinking of her own thoughts in regard to him.
“Yes, and what’s more,” added Clyde, “I’ve been thinking of you all day, really. That’s the truth. I was wishing I might see you somewhere this morning and bring you out here.”
“Oh, now, Mr. Griffiths. You know you don’t mean that,” pleaded Roberta, fearful lest this sudden contact should take too intimate and sentimental a turn too quickly. She scarcely liked that because she was afraid of him and herself, and now she looked at him, trying to appear a little cold or at least disinterested, but it was a very weak effort.
“That’s the truth, though, just the same,” insisted Clyde.
“Well, I think it is beautiful myself,” admitted Roberta. “I’ve been out here, too, several times now. My friend and I.” Clyde was once more delighted. She was smiling now and full of wonder.
“Oh, have you?” he exclaimed, and there was more talk as to why he liked to come out and how he had learned to swim here. “And to think I turned in here and there you were on the bank, looking at those water lilies. Wasn’t that queer? I almost fell out of the boat. I don’t think I ever saw you look as pretty as you did just now standing there.”
“Oh, now, Mr. Griffiths,” again pleaded Roberta cautiously. “You mustn’t begin that way. I’ll be afraid you’re a dreadful flatterer. I’ll have to think you are if you say anything like that so quickly.”
Clyde once more gazed at her weakly, and she smiled because she thought he was more handsome than ever. But what would he think, she added to herself, if she were to tell him that just before he came around that point she was thinking of him too, and wishing that he were there with her, and not Grace. And how they might sit and talk, and hold hands perhaps. He might even put his arms around her waist, and she might let him. That would be terrible, as some people here would see it, she knew. And it would never do for him to know that — never. That would be too intimate — too bold. But just the same it was so. Yet what would these people here in Lycurgus think of her and him now if they should see her, letting him paddle her about in this canoe! He a factory manager and she an employee in his department. The conclusion! The scandal, maybe, even. And yet Grace Marr was along — or soon would be. And she could explain to her — surely. He was out rowing and knew her, and why shouldn’t he help her get some lilies if he wanted to? It was almost unavoidable — this present situation, wasn’t it?
Already Clyde had maneuvered the canoe around so that they were now among the water lilies. And as he talked, having laid his paddle aside, he had been reaching over and pulling
