A tall, thin girl of about fourteen stepped out on to the landing. A bathing-dress is not as a rule a very graceful thing, yet this child, her skirt to her knee, a black silk sash knotted around her waist, with her slim white legs and charming feet, was as graceful as a young Amazon on a Grecian frieze. A heavy mass of braids, coiled up to avoid a wetting, crowned her small head. She was not pretty; Odd saw that immediately, even while admiring the well-poised figure, its gallantly held little torso and light energy. Her profile showed a short nose and prominent chin, inharmoniously accentuated. She seemed really ugly when her sister joined her; the sister was beautiful. Odd roused himself a little from his half recumbency to look at the sister appreciatively. Her slimness was exaggerated to an extreme--an almost fluttering lightness; her long arms and legs seemed to flash their whiteness on the green; she had an exquisite profile, and her soft black hair swept up into the same coronet of coils. Captain Archinard joined them as they stood side by side. "You had better race," he said, looking down into the water, and then away to the next band of shadow. "Dive in, and race to that clump of aspens. This is a jolly bit for diving." "But, papa, we shall wet our hair fearfully," said the elder girl--the ugly one--for so Odd already ungallantly designated her. "We usually get in on this shallower side and swim off. We have never tried diving, for it takes so long to dry our hair. Taylor would not like it at all." "It is so deep, too," said the beauty in rather a faltering voice--unfortunately faltering, for her father turned sharply on her. "Afraid, hey? You mustn't be a coward, Hilda." "I am not afraid," said the elder girl; "but I never tried it. What must I do? Put my arms so, and jump head first?" "There is nothing to do at all," said the Captain, with some acidity of tone. "Keep your mouth shut and strike out as you come up. You'll do it, Katherine, first try. Hilda is in a funk, I see." "Poor Hilda," Odd ejaculated mentally. She was evidently in a funk. Standing on the edge of the landing, one slim foot advanced in a tentative effort, she looked down shrinking into the water--very deeply black at this spot--and then, half entreatingly, half helplessly, at her father. "Oh, papa, it is so deep," she repeated. The Captain's neatly made face showed signs of peevish irritation. "Well, deep or not, in you go. I must break you of that craven spirit. What are you afraid of? What could happen to you?" "I--don't like water over my head--I might strike--on something." Tears were near the surface.