Seeing in the boy's face a blankness as great as her own during his
chance revelations of life on another planet, she exclaimed, "Here,
come on, down to the other end, and I'll _show_ you how they made the
dam and all--they began over there with--" The two pattered along the
edge hand-in-hand, talking incessantly on a common topic at last,
interrupting each other, squatting down, peering into the water,
pointing, discussing, arguing, squeezing the deliciously soft mud up
and down between their toes, their heads close together--they might
for the moment have been brother and sister who had grown up together.

They were interrupted by voices, and turning flushed and candid faces
of animation towards the path, beheld Aunt Victoria, wonderful and
queen-like in a white dress, a parasol, like a great rose, over her
stately blond head, attended by Sylvia adoring; Mrs. Marshall quiet
and observant; Mr. Rollins, the tutor, thin, agitated, and unhappily
responsible; and Professor Marshall smiling delightedly at the
children.

"Why, Arnold _Smith_!" cried his tutor, too much overcome by the
situation to express himself more forcibly than by a repetition of the
boy's name. "Why, _Arnold_! Come here!"

The cloud descended upon the boy's face. "I _will_ not!" he said
insolently.

"But we were just _looking_ for you to start back to the hotel,"
argued Mr. Rollins.

"I don't care if you were!" said the boy in a sullen accent.