"But mind, sir," he added, "the nex' time you'm brought home by a Dearlove, 'go' 's the word." On this understanding they retired to rest, but it was long before Mr.Fogo could shut his memory upon the panorama of the day's experiences.
Let us return to the picnickers.

After what had passed between Mrs.
Goodwyn-Sandys and Mr.Moggridge on the river's bank, it may seem strange that the lady should have chosen Sam Buzza to row her home, for the two youths were now declared rivals for her goodwill.
But I think we may credit her with a purpose.
At any rate, when the lengthening shadows and retreating tide hinted return, Sam, who had arrived late in a designedly small dingey, asked Mrs.Goodwyn-Sandys to accompany him, and she, with little demur, complied.

It did not matter greatly, as propriety would be saved by their nearness to the larger boats; and so the party started together.
But this arrangement, though excellent, did not last long; for, curiously enough, the dingey soon began to take a formidable lead of the next boat, in which the traitorous Moggridge was pulling stroke, and gazing, with what courage he could summon, into Sophia's eyes.
Indeed, so quickly was the lead increased, that at the end of two miles the larger boats had shrunk to mere spots in the distance.
The declining sun shone in Sam's eyes as he rowed, and his companion, with her sunshade so disposed as to throw her face into shadow, observed him in calm silence.

The sunshade was of scarlet silk, and in the softened light stealing through it her cheek gained all the freshness of maidenhood.

Her white gown, gathered about the waist with a band of scarlet, not only fitted her figure to perfection, but threw up the colour of her skin into glowing relief.