“I want to learn how to manage an oar —­ will you let me take one and try?”

Winthrop helped her to change her seat and put an oar into her hand, and gave her directions.  The first attempts took effect upon nothing but Asahel’s face, which gave witness to his amusement; and perhaps Winthrop’s dress, which was largely splashed in the course of a few minutes.  But Elizabeth did not seem to heed or care for either; she was intent upon the great problem of making her oar feel the water; and as gravely, if not quite so coolly, as Winthrop’s instructions were delivered, she worked at her oar to follow them.  A few random strokes, which did not seem to discriminate very justly between water and air, and then her oar had got hold of the water and was telling, though irregularly and fitfully, upon the boat.  The difficulty was mastered; and she pulled with might and main for half the rest of the way home; Winthrop having nothing to do with his one oar but to keep the two sides of the boat together, till her arm was tired.

“Next time I’ll take both oars,” she said with a face of great satisfaction as she put herself back in her old seat.  Asahel thought it would cure her of wearing pale cheeks, but he did not venture to make any remark.

Rose was waiting for them, sitting crouched discontentedly on the rocks.

“It’s eight o’clock!” —­ said she, —­ “and I’m as hungry as a bear!”

“So am I,” said Elizabeth springing ashore.

“What have you been doing? —­ keeping breakfast waiting this age?”

“I never saw any thing so delicious in all my life,” said Elizabeth emphatically, before condescending to say what.

“I shall tell Mr. Haye you are beginning a flirtation already,” whispered Miss Cadwallader laughing as they went up to the house.

But the cheek of the other at that became like a thunder-cloud.  She turned her back upon her cousin and walked from her to the house, with a step as fine and firm as that of the Belvidere Apollo and a figure like a young pine tree.  Rufus, who met her at the door, was astounded with a salutation such as a queen might bestow on a discarded courtier; but by the time the little lady came to the table she had got back her usual air.

“Well, how do you like boating before breakfast?” said Mr Landholm.

“Very much,” Elizabeth said.

“I don’t like it very much,” said he, “for I ought to have mowed half an acre by this time, instead of being here at my bread and butter.”

“It was not my fault, sir.”

“No, no; it’s all right, I am glad you went.  I should have taken my breakfast and been off, long ago; but I waited out of pure civility to you, to see how you did.  ’Pon my word, I think you have gained half a pound of flesh already.”

“She looks a great deal better,” said Asahel.

Elizabeth laughed a little, but entered into no discussion of the subject.