“What? Oh! between me and the portrait? Yes, it has been remarked before,” said Em. “I did not notice it until that flowing mantle of yours called my attention to it; but the resemblance is perfect in every feature of the face; Is it accidental, or are you perhaps a distant relation of the original?” “It is accidental. I never even saw the original of that portrait, who I understand to be the lady of this island manor.” “A strange coincidence of form and feature. You are not going?” he inquired, seeing Em. moving toward the door. “Oh, yes, I must. Good-by.” “No, I will see you to your boat.” “But you have not been through the house you came to look at.” “I can go through the house another time. I will see you to your boat, unless you forbid me to do so.” She did not forbid him, and so he followed her out, and when he had returned the key to the keeper he attended her down through the beautiful groves of the isle to the landing where she had moored her boat. “Do you mean to say that you sailed from the Wilderness alone in that boat?” “Yes, why should I not?” “Suppose an accident had happened?” “They tell me that no accident ever was known to have happened on the Placid. Even if there had been an accident, at the very worst I could only have been drowned. And is it worth while to refrain from any harmless and healthful enjoyment for the fear of a possible accident?” “Well, no, you are right. But it is rare to find a young girl so skillful and fearless in managing a sail-boat. Who taught you?” “An old philosopher who is called ’Sias, and keeps the gates at the Wilderness,” said Em. as she began to unmoor her boat. “No, no, let me do that. I should have done it before, but that I did not wish to hasten the time of your departure—like dropping the handkerchief for my own execution, you know,” said the young man as he took the task out of her hands and performed it himself. Then he handed her into the boat, hoisted the sail and took the tiller and said: “I hope you will let me go with you as far as our course separates—that is, to the landing below our place—though, if you feel the very least objection to my doing so, say it frankly and I will leave,” he added. “I have no objection at all. I thank you very much; but what will become of your own boat that brought you here?” inquired Em., half pleased, half frightened at his proposal. “Oh, I came in a little row-boat. I can send a servant down here in another boat to tow this back. Come, be charitable, and take me in. I am tired of rowing, and to row up stream will be much harder work than it was to row down.” Em. hesitated for a moment and communed with herself to this effect. “I would not refuse _any other_ person a seat in my boat, and why, now, should I refuse this gentleman, who has been kinder to me than most people? I will _not_ refuse him. It would be unkind, ungrateful and impolite.” “Shall I go?” inquired Ronald Bruce.