"A fortnight," she said, moving on, and when she left him Thirlwell went
to the mail-box and dropped in his letter.

Afterwards he felt annoyed that he had done so, and wondered whether he
had weakly given way to a romantic impulse, but next morning he went
down to the beach and found the girl launching a canoe. Making her sit
near the middle, he knelt in the stern and drove the canoe across the
shining water with vigorous strokes. Agatha wore a white jersey and had
left her hat, and he noted the color the cool wind brought to her face
and how the light sparkled on her hair.

By and by they skirted a rocky island where resinous smells drifted
across the water and the reflections of tall pines wavered round the
canoe, until he ran the craft on a shingle point and they changed
places. Agatha took the single-bladed paddle and although her hands were
sore made some progress while he instructed her. After a time she
stopped and let the canoe drift in the hot sunshine.

"I think you'd soon make a good _voyageur_," Thirlwell remarked. "For
one thing, you're determined; I saw you wince once or twice and imagine
the paddle-haft hurt."

"I must learn to use the pole yet, and mean to try it in the river by
and by. You must pole, I think, when you go up a fast stream?"

"That is so, when you can't use the tracking line. But I don't see why
you are anxious to learn."

"I have an object," Agatha answered with a smile.