ce lends,' and so forth," smiled Craven Kyte, as he at once
headed for the shore.

But the outgoing tide had left a muddy beach there, and so they had to
keep at a respectful distance from it.

They rowed again to the middle of the river.

The afterglow had faded away, but the blue-black starlit sky was
brilliantly reflected in the dark water.

When they had rowed an hour longer, back and forth from shore to shore,
Craven Kyte drew in his oar and said:

"It is growing late and very dark, love. Had we not better go in?"

"No, no, no!" answered the bride, with prettily assumed authority.

"But, dear love--"

"The night is beautiful! I could stay out here until morning!"

"But chills and fevers, these September nights, darling!"

"Fiddle-de-dee! Are you afraid?"

"Not for myself, love, but for you."

"I never had a chill in my life! I am acclimated to these water-side
places. If you are tired of rowing give me the oars."

"Not for the world! What, fatigue your dear arms? I would sooner mine
dropped from my shoulders with weariness!"

And he took up both oars again and plied them actively, although his
unaccustomed muscles were aching from the long-continued exercise.

"Turn down the stream then and row with the tide. It will be so much
lighter work than rowing back and forth across the river."

"But it will take us so far from the town."

"Never mind!"

"And it will make it very difficult, when we turn back, to row against
wind and tide."

"Bah, we will not stay out long! We will only go around that point that
I see before us. What a fascination there is in a turning point! We
always want to see what is on the other side," said Mary Grey, lightly.

Meantime, Craven Kyte had turned the boat and they were floating down
stream very fast.

They soon passed the point, and saw on the other side a flat, sandy
shore, with the woods at a little distance.

They were still off the point, when Mary Grey suddenly uttered an
exclamation of dismay.

"What is the matter?" hastily inquired Craven Kyte.

"Oh, my hat! My hat has fallen off my head and is in the water! If you
stoop over quick you can reach it before it floats quite away!" she
said, eagerly.

Craven Kyte immediately drew in his oars and secured them, and then bent
over the side of the boat to reach the hat that was still floating
within three feet of his hands. He bent very far out and endangered his
balance.

Mary Grey arose to her feet. Her