boating flannels, who appeared to have come up from the river, who had advanced noiselessly across the lawn and whom Mrs. Beever introduced without ceremony as her "boy." Her boy blinked at Dennis, to whose identity he received no clue; and her visitor decided on a course. "May I think over what you've said to me and come back?"
"I shall be very happy to see you again. But, in this poor place, what will you do?"
Dennis glanced at the river; then he appealed to the young man. "Will you lend me your boat?"
"It's mine," said Mrs. Beever, with decision. "You're welcome to it."
"I'll take a little turn." Raising his hat, Dennis went rapidly down to the stream.
Paul Beever looked after him. "Hadn't I better show him———?" he asked of his mother.
"You had better sit right down there." She pointed with sharpness to the chair Dennis had quitted, and her son submissively took possession of it.
