“I was so afraid you’d marry that horrid Dauntless fellow,” whispered Mrs. Van Truder.  Eleanor gave vent to a constrained laugh.

“How perfectly preposterous!”

“When are you to be married, my dear?”

“At once—­I mean, quite soon.  Isn’t the scenery beautiful, Mr. Van Truder?” asked Eleanor in desperation.

“It’s too far away.  I can’t see it,” grumbled the old gentleman.

“He’s so very near-sighted,” explained his wife.  “Do you expect to stay long at the Somerset?”

“It all depends,” said Eleanor, with a glance at Dauntless.

“Isn’t that your governess with Mr. Windomshire?  I can’t be mistaken.”

“Yes, she’s going out to spend a few weeks with a rich aunt,—­her sister’s mother, I think.”

“How’s that?” gasped the old lady.

“I mean her mother’s sister.”

“It sounded very strange, my dear.”

“About the mother having a sister?” guessed old Mr. Van Truder, sharply.  “Seems all right to me.”

“They are going to row us across the river,” volunteered Eleanor, helplessly.

“Good-morning, Mr. Windomshire,” called Mrs. Van Truder.  Windomshire started and got very red in the face.  Miss Courtenay’s bow went unnoticed by the old lady.  In sheer despair, the Englishman turned to Dauntless, a fellow-sufferer.

“I say, old man,” he began nervously, “I’d like to ask a favour of you.”

“Go ahead—­anything I can do,” said the other, blankly.  Windomshire continued in lowered tones: 

“Deucedly awkward, but I forgot my bags at Fenlock.  I see you’ve got yours.  Would you mind lending me a fresh shirt and a collar, old chap?”

“Gladly,” cried Joe, very much relieved.  “Will you take them now?” starting to open his bag.  Windomshire hastily interposed.

“I’d rather not, old chap.  It’s rather exposed here, don’t you know.  Later on, if you please.  Thanks, old man; I’ll not forget this.”  They shook hands without any apparent excuse.

“Mr. Windomshire!” called Mrs. Van Truder.  He turned with a hopeless look in his eyes.  The two girls had misery and consternation plainly stamped in their faces.  “We can’t all go over in the next boats, you know.  I’ve no doubt you and Miss Thursdale would not in the least mind being left to the last,” with a sly smile.

“Oh—­er—­ah, by Jove!” gasped Windomshire, with a glance at the still faces of the young women.  He saw no relief there.

“Blamed cat!” muttered Dauntless, gritting his teeth.

“Mr. Dauntless, will you and Miss Courtenay come with us in this boat?  I want some one to keep the snakes away; Mr. Van Truder can’t see them, you know.”

There was no way out of it.  Joe and Anne meekly followed the Van Truders into the wobbly boat, resentment in their hearts, uncertainty in their minds.  They rowed away, leaving Windomshire and Eleanor standing among the willows, ill at ease and troubled beyond expression.