“You’d have the cheap distinction of being a hero of the beach,” she ejaculated, uncompromisingly rude. “The poor opinion of the beach would not affect me in the least,” he laughed, softly, “if you did not share it.” “Mr. Merrington,” she flashed, “if you will swim back to the shore, I shall follow you at an agreeable distance.” “You have given me the slip once,” he said, slowly. “I am acting _ex officio_; I fear I must be the judge of the agreeableness of the distance.” Abruptly his banter fell from him. The dancing light in his large eyes darkened into intensity. “Won’t you let me see you safely in, Miss Selwyn?” “Have your own way, then,” she said, with swift impatience, turning toward the land. Merrington kept but an arm’s-length between them. As they came out of the water, a little distance apart, a tall woman separated herself from a group standing to one side, and bore down upon Jacqueline. “What a fright you have given us!” she cried. “I came down to the beach to find you, and found instead everyone watching your rescue in mid-ocean. Who was your deliverer?” “Be sensible, Peggie. I do not know who it was that drove me in by his officious intrusion.” “Intrusion! Good gracious, Jacqueline, do you think you own the Atlantic?” Mrs. Le Moyne turned to look at the man, who, having accomplished his purpose, was making his way to the stand of the guard once more. She gave a little cry of surprise, which arrested his attention. “Geoffrey! Where in the world did you come from?” “Peggie!” Merrington cried, gleefully. “You don’t mean to say you’re here?” “I never make useless remarks, Geoffrey. How good you are looking! Of course I needn’t introduce you now to Miss Selwyn. Jacqueline, this is Mr. Merrington, my only and best cousin.” Jacqueline bowed stiffly, without looking up. She was wringing the water from the skirt of her suit. “Of course,” Mrs. Le Moyne laughed, “it’s absurd to introduce people that have been across seas together, but Jacqueline said she didn’t know you, Geof. When did you come down, and where are you? But it doesn’t matter. You must come to my cottage. I am just next door to Jacqueline--plenty of room for you.” Merrington looked at the girl, who apparently did not hear. In a moment she turned, and joined the group which Mrs. Le Moyne had forsaken. “She will never forgive me for intruding upon her out there,” Merrington said, indicating the sea by a sidewise motion of his head. “She was really in danger, but wouldn’t acknowledge it.” “And you want her to forgive you! I can see that with half an eye. What a boy you are still, for all your body and legs! Have you let her see that you care for her?” “Hold on, there,” he laughed, folding his arms as he stood dripping before her. “Don’t be in such a hurry.” She looked him over carefully.