‘“They would have made a handsome pair if they had married,” said she. ‘“Yes,” said he. “’Tis a pity we should have parted ’em” ‘“Don’t talk of that, James,” said she. “For better or for worse we decided to do as we did, and there’s an end of it.” ‘They sat on after that without speaking, side by side, and the band played as before; the people strolled up and down; and Stephen and Olive shrank smaller and smaller as they shot straight out to sea. The two on shore used to relate how they saw Stephen stop rowing a moment, and take off his coat to get at his work better; but James’s wife sat quite still in the stern, holding the tiller-ropes by which she steered the boat. When they had got very small indeed she turned her head to shore. ‘“She is waving her handkerchief to us,” said Stephen’s wife, who thereupon pulled out her own, and waved it as a return signal. ‘The boat’s course had been a little awry while Mrs. James neglected her steering to wave her handkerchief to her husband and Mrs. Stephen; but now the light skiff went straight onward again, and they could soon see nothing more of the two figures it contained than Olive’s light mantle and Stephen’s white shirt sleeves behind. ‘The two on the shore talked on. “’Twas very curious—our changing partners at Tony Kytes’s wedding,” Emily declared. “Tony was of a fickle nature by all account, and it really seemed as if his character had infected us that night. Which of you two was it that first proposed not to marry as we were engaged?” ‘“H’m—I can’t remember at this moment,” says James. “We talked it over, you know; and no sooner said than done.” ‘“’Twas the dancing,” said she. “People get quite crazy sometimes in a dance.” ‘“They do,” he owned. ‘“James—do you think they care for one another still?” asks Mrs. Stephen. ‘James Hardcome mused and admitted that perhaps a little tender feeling might flicker up in their hearts for a moment now and then. “Still, nothing of any account,” he said. ‘“I sometimes think that Olive is in Steve’s mind a good deal,” murmurs Mrs. Stephen; “particularly when she pleases his fancy by riding past our window at a gallop on one of the draught-horses . . . I never could do anything of that sort; I could never get over my fear of a horse.” ‘“And I am no horseman, though I pretend to be on her account,” murmured James Hardcome. “But isn’t it almost time for them to turn and sweep round to the shore, as the other boating folk have done? I wonder what Olive means by steering away straight to the horizon like that? She has hardly swerved from a direct line seaward since they started.” ‘“No doubt they are talking, and don’t think of where they are going,” suggests Stephen’s wife. ‘“Perhaps so,” said James. “I didn’t know Steve could row like that.” ‘“O yes,” says she. “He often comes here on business, and generally has a pull round the bay.” ‘“I can hardly see the boat or them,” says James again; “and it is getting dark.”