“I am glad to take the least thorn from the roses of your life,” was his smiling answer.

She veiled close scrutiny under her reply:  “I fear the brilliant Miss Alden will cause my society to appear commonplace in contrast.”

“I do not see how you can fear anything of the kind,” was his prompt answer; “I trust you, and you must trust me.”

“I do trust you, Mr. Muir,” she said, softly.

Before he could speak again nurses and children came streaming and screaming from the lake toward the house.  “Nellie Wilder is drowned,” was the burden of their dire message.

Graydon sprang down the steps, and rushed with the fleetness of the wind toward the lake.

As Madge, with Jennie and Harry Muir, approached the water, they saw a party of children playing carelessly in a boat, and a moment later a little girl fell overboard.  The boat was in motion toward the shore, and when she rose it had passed beyond her reach.  Her companions gave way to wild panic, and, instead of trying to save her, screamed and pulled for land.  No one was present except nurses and other children, and they all joined in the wild, helpless chorus of alarm, and began a stampede toward the hotel.

Madge saw that if the child was saved she must act promptly and wisely.  To the Muir children she said, authoritatively, “Sit down where you are and don’t move.”  Then she rushed forward and unfastened a skiff.  As she did so the child rose for the last time and sunk again with a gurgling cry.  Keeping her eyes fixed on the spot, and with an oar in her hand, Madge pushed away from the shore vigorously with her feet, and with the impetus sprang upon the narrow stern-sheets, then crept forward toward the bow, at the same time ever keeping her eyes fixed unwaveringly on the spot where the child had sunk, from which widening circles were eddying.  The nurses and children who had not started for the house, seeing that a rescue was attempted, looked on with breathless dread and suspense.

When the impetus that Madge had first given to the skiff ceased, she kept the little craft in motion by paddling, first on one side, then on the other, her eyes still fixed on one point in the dark water.  At last this point seemed almost beneath her; she dropped the oar, stooped, and peered over the side of the boat.  After a moment’s hesitation she appeared to those on shore to have lost her balance, fallen overboard, and sunk.  Renewed screams of terror resounded, and the Muir children fled toward the hotel, crying, “Aunt Madge is drowned.”

“What do you mean?” Graydon gasped, seizing Harry by the arm.

“Oh, Uncle Graydon! run quick.  Aunt Madge fell out of a boat under water.”

A moment later he saw the young girl rise to the surface with a child in her grasp.  With one headlong plunge, and a few strong strokes, he was at her side, exclaiming, “Great God, Madge! what does this mean?”