"Bother Addison!" he suddenly exclaimed aloud.

"I beg your pardon," said a voice from the depths of the obnoxious
head-gear before him.

"I was thinking of the author of _The Spectator_. You know Johnson
says we ought to give our days and nights to the study of Addison.
Don't you think it would be more profitable for us to devote our days
and nights to the study of Nature?"

"Undoubtedly; and especially in this short-summered region, where
there are only a few months of the year in which one can pursue one's
studies out of doors. My days are spent on the shore, and as for my
nights--well, even at night I often go to sleep to the fancy that I am
drifting over the water with just such a gentle movement as this."

"I hope," said Edward gravely, "that you have an efficient oarsman.
You couldn't row and sleep at the same time, you know."

He looked up to see if his companion was struck with the force of this
observation, but although they were moving towards the east, the
bonnet pointed due north. There was also a slight suspicion of the
wintry north in the tone with which she replied:

"Oh, there is no labour connected with it; I am merely drifting--drifting
to the Isle of Sleep."

"That is a pretty idea, but it is too lonely and listless to suit me.
I should prefer to have a young lady in the boat--and a pair of oars."