“Tell us about that time when you bribed the regimental anchovy of Troop B to betray the secret password to you.”

“I ignore you because you’re jealous.  May I have some more tea, Miss Mannering?”

“Call me Myra, Scoutmaster Simpson of The Spectator troop, and you shall.”

“I blush for my unblushing sex,” said Dahlia.

“I blush for my family,” said Archie.  “That a young girl of gentle birth, nurtured in a peaceful English home, brought up in an atmosphere of old-world courtesy, should so far forget herself as to attempt to wheedle a promising young scoutmaster, who can light a fire, practically speaking, backwards—­this, I repeat, is too much.”

It was Thomas who changed the subject so abruptly.

“I suppose the tide comes as far as this?” he said.

“It does, captain.”

“Then that would account for the boat having gone.”

“That and Simpson’s special knot,” I said, keeping calm for the sake of the women and children.

Archie jumped up with a shout.  The boat was about twenty yards from the shore, going very slowly upstream.

“It’s very bad to bathe just after a heavy meal,” I reminded him.

“I’m not sure that I’m going to, but I’m quite sure that one of us will have to.”

“Walk up the river with it,” said Myra, “while Dahlia and I pack, and the one who’s first digested goes in.”

We walked up.  I felt that in my own case the process of assimilation would be a lengthy one.

VI.—­A LITTLE CRICKET FOR AN ENDING

We came back from a “Men Only” sail to find Myra bubbling over with excitement.

“I’ve got some news for you,” she said, “but I’m not going to tell you till dinner.  Be quick and change.”

“Bother, she’s going to get married,” I murmured.

Myra gurgled and drove us off.

“Put on all your medals and orders, Thomas,” she called up the stairs; “and, Archie, it’s a champagne night.”

“I believe, old fellow,” said Simpson, “she’s married already.”

Half an hour later we were all ready for the news.

“Just a moment, Myra,” said Archie.  “I’d better warn you that we’re expecting a good deal, and that if you don’t live up to the excitement you’ve created, you’ll be stood in the corner for the rest of dinner.”

“She’s quite safe,” said Dahlia.

“Of course I am.  Well, now I’m going to begin.  This morning, about eleven, I went and had a bathe, and I met another girl in the sea.”

“Horribly crowded the sea is getting nowadays,” commented Archie.

“And she began to talk about what a jolly day it was and so on, and I gave her my card—­I mean I said, ‘I’m Myra Mannering.’  And she said, ‘I’m sure you’re keen on cricket.’”

“I like the way girls talk in the sea,” said Archie.  “So direct.”

“What is there about our Myra,” I asked, “that stamps her as a cricketer, even when she’s only got her head above water?”