Beth had not seen him for several days. She had been so absorbed in her new love that she had scarcely even thought of him. Harvey, on his part, had thought of her very often. He had haunted the Davenport wharf, but no Beth appeared. At first, pride had held him back from seeking her out, but her very indifference finally proved an irresistible attraction. Such is the masculine nature. He came on this morning of all others to invite her out for a row. She, at first, resisted the temptation. "Oh, Harvey, what a shame. Mamma is not here, so I cannot go." "Do you think she would let you go if she were here?" "Yes, I think so." "Then what harm would there be in your going? We would be back before she returned." Now, as stated before, Beth was reckless. She Just felt like doing something a little wrong. "I believe I'll go, Harvey." "Bully for you, Beth. What time did you say your mother would return?" "Not before five or six this afternoon." "What do you say then to taking our lunch with us, and having a picnic?" "I'll ask Maggie." Beth knew by this time that there was little danger of Maggie refusing her anything. If the child had asked her for the moon she would probably have said, "Shure, honey, I'll try to git it for yo'." So now Beth hunted up Maggie, who hustled around and soon had a tempting feast ready for them. "Does yo' maw know yo's gwine?" asked Maggie, as she handed the lunch to Beth. "No, but she would not mind, I know." Away ran Harvey and Beth to the boat. The river was as smooth as glass. Beth, at first, sat in the back seat, and Harvey rowed. "I guess we'll go directly across the river. I wish it wasn't so far to Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe's," said Harvey. "Who is she?" "Don't you know? I thought everybody knew about her. She wrote 'Uncle Tom's Cabin.'" "Oh, I saw that acted at the theatre once. Does she live here?" "She has a place up the river aways, but it is deserted now. She used to come down here quite often. We'll row straight across the river. Did you ever row, Beth?" "No, but you can teach me, can't you?" "All right. Now move very carefully. I wouldn't have you fall overboard for the world." Harvey suspended the oars in the air while Beth took the seat beside him. Then he showed her how to hold the oar. "Now begin so--carefully and with me." "That's easy. Is that all there is to rowing?" "It won't be so easy presently." Beth pulled away with ail her might, and in silence. Suddenly, there was a splash of water on her side, and she almost tumbled into the bottom of the boat. Harvey laughed. "I thought you'd be catching a crab before long." Beth's eyes opened wide. "I didn't see any crab, Harvey. My oar just balked." "That's what is called catching a crab, you know, when your oar doesn't go far enough into the water. Say, Beth, you had better not try to row any more. It'll tire you. Don't you want to stop?" "No indeed. I like to row."