Next morning Thirlwell wrote to his employers, stating that he meant to
take another week's holiday, and smiled as he reflected that the letter
would arrive too late for them to refuse. The hotel was comfortable, he
had met one or two interesting people, and was told the fishing was
good; besides, he thought he would not be badly needed at the mine just
then. For all that, he was not quite persuaded that these were
sufficient reasons for neglecting his work, and when he went through the
hall with the letter in his hand he put it into his pocket instead of
the box. He would think over the matter again before the mail went out.
Then as he crossed the veranda Agatha came up from the beach and gave
him a smile.

"You are out early," Thirlwell remarked.

"I like the morning freshness and have been on the lake."

"It looks as if you had hurt yourself," said Thirlwell, noting a small
wet handkerchief twisted round her hand.

Agatha laughed. "Not seriously; I blistered my fingers trying to paddle.
I have been practising since I came, but it is difficult to keep the
canoe straight when you are alone."

"That's so," Thirlwell agreed. "The back-feathering stroke is hard to
learn."

"For all that, I mean to learn it before I go."

"Perhaps I could teach it you. How long have you got?"