Here, too, was the Dipper beneath her, swaying idly back and forth upon the water.

She remembered, with a little cry of joy, that the boat was always locked; she could not have stirred from the shore; it would be but the work of a moment to jump upon the wharf, then back swiftly through the fields to the house.
She looked back.

The wharf was not in sight.

A dark distance lay between her and it.

The beds of lily-leaves, and the dropping blossoms of the maples were about her on every side.