“How do you know but you’ll find her quite a different proposition when she wakes up?  A plunge like that is a sobering sort of experience, I should say, for a girl who can’t swim.  She may be the meekest thing on earth after this.  If it does her as much good as a lively dressing down did George Jarvis, she’s likely to be a changed girl.”

They could not help smiling at the satisfaction in the boy’s voice.  “He may be right,” admitted Doctor Churchill.

“At any rate, if Lucy isn’t ill to-morrow let’s tell nobody what has happened.  The poor child certainly doesn’t need any more humiliation just at present, and I’d like to spare her all I can.”  Charlotte spoke decidedly.

They agreed to this.  Evelyn went to her place beside Lucy, planning an affectionate greeting when the younger girl should wake; and Charlotte, when she fell asleep, dreamed of Lucy until morning.

It was quite a different Lucy who met them all in the morning.  She showed no ill effects except a slight languor, and when Charlotte had established her in a hammock on the porch, she lay there with a quiet, sober face, which showed that she had been doing some thinking.

When Jeff approached with his most deferential manner to inquire after her welfare, she astonished him by saying more simply and sweetly than he had dreamed possible: 

“I want to tell you I won’t forget what you did for me last night.  I was foolish, I suppose.  I—­I didn’t think what I was doing was any harm, but I—­”

She choked a little and felt for her handkerchief.  Jeff grasped her hand.  He had a warm heart, and he had not got over the thought of how he should have felt if he had not been able to rescue the girl he had attempted to lecture.  His answer to Lucy was very gentle: 

“We’ll never think of it again.  I’m awfully thankful it all ended well.  If you’ll forgive me for frightening you, I’ll say that I’m sure you’re really a sensible little girl, and I shan’t lie awake nights worrying over your taking midnight strolls.”

His tone was not priggish, and his smile was so bright that Lucy took heart of grace, and said, earnestly, “You needn’t.  I don’t want any more,” and buried her face in her pillow.

But it was not to cry, for Evelyn came by.  Jeff called to her, and between them they soon had Lucy smiling.  Before the day was over she had had a little talk with Charlotte, in which the young married woman came nearer to the heart of the girl that she had ever succeeded in doing before, and Lucy had learned one or two simple lessons she never forgot.

“But it’s the first and last time I ever attempt the education of the young girl,” declared Jeff, solemnly, to Evelyn, that afternoon, as they gathered armfuls of old-fashioned June roses for the decoration of the porch.

“Don’t feel too badly.  Lucy is going to value your respect very much after this, and I think you’ll be able to give it to her.  A girl who has no older brother misses a great deal, I think.  I don’t know what I should have done without mine,” answered Evelyn, reaching up to pull at a pink cluster far above her head.