"I thought you were going to row?" said Madeline, turning to Henry, who sat beside her in the stern. "Certainly," said he, making as if he would rise. "Tom, you just sit here while I row." "Oh no, I'd just as lief row," said Tom, seizing the oars with feverish haste. "So would I, Tom; I want a little exercise," urged Henry with a hypocritical grin, as he stood up in an attitude of readiness. "Oh, I like to row. 'I'd a great deal rather. Honestly," asseverated Tom, as he made the water foam with the violence of his strokes, compelling Henry to resume his seat to preserve his equilibrium. "It's perfectly plain that you don't want to sit by me, Tom. That hurts my feelings," said Madeline, pretending to pout. "Oh no, it isn't that," protested Tom. "Only I'd rather row; that is, I mean, you know, it's such fun rowing." "Very well, then," said Madeline, "I sha'n't help you any more; and here they all are tying their boats on to ours." Sure enough, one of the other boats had fastened its chain to the stern of theirs, and the others had fastened to that; their oarsmen were lying off and Tom was propelling the entire flotilla. "Oh, I can row 'em all just as easy's not," gasped the devoted youth, the perspiration rolling down his forehead. But this was a little too bad, and Henry soon cast off the other boats, in spite of the protests of their occupants, who regarded Tom's brawn and muscle as the common stock of the entire party, which no one boat had a right to appropriate. On reaching Hemlock Hollow, Madeline asked the poor young man for his hat, and returned it to him adorned with evergreens, which nearly distracted him with bashfulness and delight, and drove him to seek a safety-valve for his excitement in superhuman activity all the rest of the morning, arranging croquet sets, hanging swings, breaking ice, squeezing lemons, and fetching water. "Oh, how thirsty I am!" sighed Madeline, throwing down her croquet mallet. "The ice-water is not yet ready, but I know a spring a little way off where the water is cold as ice," said Henry. "Show it to me this instant," she cried, and they walked off together, followed by Ida Lewis's unhappy eyes. The distance to the spring was not great, but the way was rough, and once or twice he had to help her over fallen trees and steep banks. Once she slipped a little, and for, a single supreme moment he held her whole weight in his arms. Before, they had been talking and laughing gaily, but that made a sudden silence. He dared not look at her for some moments, and when he did there was a slight flush tingeing her usually colourless cheek.