If it had not been for the memory of Lillian’s advice ringing in my ears, I think I should have much astonished Dr. Pettit and Harry Underwood when they started into the surf with me.

The whole situation was most annoying to me.  And, besides, it was so unutterably silly!  I might have been any foolish school girl of seventeen, with a couple of immature youths vying for my smiles, for any reserve or dignity there was in the situation.

My fingers itched to astonish each of the smirking men with a sound box on the ear.  But my fiercest anger was against Dicky.  If he had been properly attentive to me, Mr. Underwood and Dr. Pettit would have had no opportunity, indeed would not have dared, to pay me the idiotic compliments, or to offer the silly attentions they had given me.

But Dicky and Grace Draper were romping in the surf, like two children, splashing water over each other, and running hand in hand toward the place far out on the sand—­for it was low tide—­where they could swim.

They might have been alone on the beach for anything their appearance showed to the contrary.  And yet as I gazed I saw Dicky look past the girl in my direction, with a quick, furtive, watching glance.

As they went farther into the surf, he sent another glance over his shoulder toward me.

As I caught it, guessing that in all his apparent interest in Grace Draper he was yet watching me and my behavior, something seemed to snap in my brain.

I would give him something to watch!

With a swift movement I slipped a little bit away from the two men by my side, and, filling my hands with water, splashed it full into the face of Harry Underwood.

“Dare you to play blind man’s buff,” I said gayly, sending another handful into Dr. Pettit’s face, and then slipping adroitly to one side I laughed with, I fancy, as much mischief as any hoyden of sixteen could have put into her voice, at the picture the men made trying to get the salt water out of their eyes.

I had no compunctions on the score of their discomfort, for I felt that I had a score to settle with each of them.  The way in which each took my rudeness, however, was characteristic of the men.

Harry Underwood’s face grew black for a minute, then it cleared and he laughed boisterously.

“You little devil,” he said, “I’ll pay you for that.  Ever get kissed under water?  Well, that’s what will happen to you before this day is over.”

Dr. Pettit’s face did not change, but into his gray eyes came a little steely glint.  He said nothing, only smiled at me.  But there was something about both smile and eyes that made me more uncomfortable than Harry Underwood’s bizarre threat.

I was so unskilled in this game of banter and flirtation that I was at a loss what to say.  Recklessly I grasped at the first thing which came into my mind.

“You’ll have to catch me first,” I said, daringly, and turning, ran swiftly out toward the open sea.  I am only a fair swimmer, but the sea was unusually calm, so that I went much farther than I otherwise would have dared.