"Again, I beg your pardon," I said. "I hadn't expected-"
She eyed me calmly with the stare of the child that
arrives at a drawing-room door by mistake and scrutinizes
the guests without awe. I didn't know what I had
expected or had not expected, and she manifested no
intention of helping me to explain. Her short skirt
suggested fifteen or sixteen-not more-and such being
the case there was no reason why I should not be master
of the situation. As I fumbled my pipe the hot coals
of tobacco burned my hand and I cast the thing from
me.
She laughed a little and watched the pipe bound from
the dock into the water.
"Too bad!" she said, her eyes upon it; "but if you
hurry you may get it before it floats away."
"Thank you for the suggestion," I said. But I did
not relish the idea of kneeling on the dock to fish for a
pipe before a strange school-girl who was, I felt sure,
anxious to laugh at me.
She took a step toward the line by which her boat was
fastened.
"Allow me."
"If you think you can,-safely," she said; and the
laughter that lurked in her eyes annoyed me.
"The feminine knot is designed for the confusion of
man," I observed, twitching vainly at the rope, which
was tied securely in unfamiliar loops.
She was singularly unresponsive. The thought that
she was probably laughing at my clumsiness did not
make my fingers more nimble.
"The nautical instructor at St. Agatha's is undoubtedly
a woman. This knot must come in the post-graduate
course. But my gallantry is equal, I trust, to your
patience."
The maid in the red tam-o'-shanter continued silent.
The wet rope was obdurate, the knot more and more
hopeless, and my efforts to make light of the situation
awakened no response in the girl. I tugged away at the
rope, attacking its tangle on various theories.
"A case for surgery, I'm afraid. A truly Gordian knot,
but I haven't my knife."
"Oh, but you wouldn't!" she exclaimed. "I think I
can manage."
She bent down-I was aware that the sleeve of her
jacket brushed my shoulder-seized an end that I had
ignored, gave it a sharp tug with a slim brown hand and
pulled the knot free.
"There!" she exclaimed with a little laugh; "I might
have saved you all the bother."
"How dull of me! But I didn't have the combination,"
I said, steadying the canoe carefully to mitigate the
ignominy of my failure.
She scorned the hand I extended, but embarked with
light confident step and took the paddle. It was growing
late. The shadows in the wood were deepening; a
chill crept over the water, and, beyond the tower of the
chapel, the sky was bright with the splendor of sunset.
With a few skilful strokes she brought her little craft
beside my pipe, picked it up and tossed it to the wharf.