Had an angel visibly descended from heaven to assume the helm, Miss Delano could not have been more grateful and overcome.  “Oh, my dear, my dear!” she said, and, in the intensity of her relief, began to cry a little softly.  Gerald pretended not to notice her emotion (she was very awkward as a comforter, and as shy before tears as a man), and rowed around for a while in utter silence; and then feeling that conversation might aid in quieting her companion’s unnecessarily excited nerves she began abruptly charging her with questions as one loads a gun with cartridges, dropping down one after another with cruel directness into the harmless vacancy of Miss Delano’s brain.  How many inhabitants had Joppa in precise figures? what was the height of those farther hills to the left? upon what system was the village-school governed? what was the mineral nature of the soil? what was the fastest time ever made by that bay mare of Mr. Upjohn’s with the white hind foot? etc. etc., etc., on all which points poor Miss Delano could only assure her timidly:  “I don’t know, dear; it would be well if I did,” and relapsed into an alarmed and most uncharacteristic silence.

Phebe stood watching the boat as Gerald rowed off, then, as if recollecting some neglected duty, turned suddenly, and found herself face to face with Mr. Halloway.

“No farther,” he said, playfully barring her passage.

“Oh, but I must!  I want to find Olly and talk him into a better frame of mind before Gerald comes back.”

“Leave Olly to me, please.  I am a perfect child-tamer, and guarantee to exorcise his seven evil spirits in less than no time.  Meanwhile, sit you down and rest.”

“Oh, I don’t need rest.  If you’ll undertake Olly I’ll help put back the lunch things.  Picnics are quite like the Biblical feasts:  five loaves and two fishes somehow always make twelve basketfuls to take up.”

“And you are always a true disciple at the feast, Miss Phebe, intent only upon ministering to others.”

Phebe laughed her own peculiarly light-hearted, gay laugh.  “That is a much prettier way of putting it than Gerald’s.  She says I make myself maid-of-all-work.”

“Miss Gerald, of course, doesn’t approve of such service.”

“But you do.  So I needn’t mind her blame.”

“But I shall blame too, Miss Phebe, when you overdo yourself.  I don’t see why others’ recreation need be all work for you.  Let each take his share of both the pleasure and the toil.”

“But you see this is my share, Mr. Halloway, because I can’t help in any better way.  I don’t know enough to entertain people’s guests just by talking to them, as Gerald does.  You forget how dull I am.”

“So I do,” said Denham, gravely.  “I forget it all the time.  Indeed, the forgetfulness has quite become chronic.  Now I’ll find Olly, and we’ll all go at the dishes together and make a game of it.”