“Miss Wilder, you must learn to swim.  I’ve taught quantities of young ladies, and shall be delighted to launch the ‘Dora,’ if you’ll accept me as a pilot.  Stop a bit; I’ll get a life-preserver”; and leaving Debby to flirt with the waves, the scarlet youth departed like a flame of fire.

A dismal shriek interrupted his pupil’s play, and looking up, she saw her aunt beckoning wildly with one hand, while she was groping in the water with the other.  Debby ran to her, alarmed at her tragic expression, and Mrs. Carroll, drawing the girl’s face into the privacy of her big bonnet, whispered one awful word, adding, distractedly,—­

“Dive for them! oh, dive for them!  I shall be perfectly helpless, if they are lost!”

“I can’t dive, Aunt Pen; but there is a man, let us ask him,” said Debby, as a black head appeared to windward.

But Mrs. Carroll’s “nerves” had received a shock, and, gathering up her dripping garments, she fled precipitately along the shore and vanished into her dressing-room.

Debby’s keen sense of the ludicrous got the better of her respect, and peal after peal of laughter broke from her lips, till a splash behind her put an end to her merriment, and, turning, she found that this friend in need was her acquaintance of the day before.  The gentleman seemed pausing for permission to approach, with much the appearance of a sagacious Newfoundland, wistful and wet.

“Oh, I’m very glad it’s you, Sir!” was Debby’s cordial greeting, as she shook a drop off the end of her nose, and nodded, smiling.

The new comer immediately beamed upon her like an amiable Triton, saying, as they turned shoreward,—­

“Our first interview opened with a laugh on my side, and our second with one on yours.  I accept the fact as a good omen.  Your friend seemed in trouble; allow me to atone for my past misdemeanors by offering my services now.  But first let me introduce myself; and as I believe in the fitness of things, let me present you with an appropriate card”; and, stooping, the young man wrote “Frank Evan” on the hard sand at Debby’s feet.

The girl liked his manner, and, entering into the spirit of the thing, swept as grand a curtsy as her limited drapery would allow, saying, merrily,—­

“I am Debby Wilder, or Dora, as aunt prefers to call me; and instead of laughing, I ought to be four feet under water, looking for something we have lost; but I can’t dive, and my distress is dreadful, as you see.”

“What have you lost?  I will look for it, and bring it back in spite of the kelpies, if it is a human possibility,” replied Mr. Evan, pushing his wet locks out of his eyes, and regarding the ocean with a determined aspect.

Debby leaned toward him, whispering with solemn countenance,—­

“It is a set of teeth, Sir.”