The swimming adventure took place on Friday. Saturday passed without anything special occurring. Sunday was a lovely day, when they all steamed about and enjoyed the fresh breezes, and, as Mr Durrant expressed it, forgot dull Care. Monday also passed without excitement, and on Tuesday, the little party returned in a body to Sunshine Lodge. Now the crucial moment was close at hand, and what might have occurred but for an unexpected obstacle, no one can quite say; for there is little doubt that Mr Durrant was deeply impressed by Harriet's conduct. He was such a brave man himself, that he could not but admire bravery in others, and the girl who had risked her life for his son was not to be lightly regarded. He still continued to feel much puzzled about her, and still, in his heart of hearts, much preferred Robina. But Robina Starling was by no means at her best just now. She looked dull and sad and, notwithstanding every effort, care would sit upon her young brow and visit her frank, although troubled, eyes. Still, the person who really quite upset the whole scheme which had been so carefully planned by Harriet Lane was the one who, under ordinary circumstances, might have been least expected to do so. Her own familiar friend was the obstacle who made matters just in the moment of apparent victory exceedingly difficult. Jane Bush was supposed to be a very commonplace little girl. In one sense, this was true. She was not particularly clever: she was not at all good-looking: she had few chances in life. She had, however, her good points. She was devoted to the little brother and sister, who, much younger than herself, had none of the advantages which she enjoyed. While Harriet, in her way, was fearless and bold, Jane was a little bit of a coward. Now cowards are extremely useful to wicked, designing people. They are so easily entrapped, and when once they are in the toils, it is almost impossible for them to get out again. Jane felt herself in the toils as far as Harriet was concerned. Nevertheless, she was very unhappy. Harriet, who must have a confidante, had given Jane a graphic account of what really occurred in the little cove not far from Totland Bay. Jane had listened with her usual, absorbed attention, her round black eyes fixed on her companion's pale face. In the excitement of the narrative, Harriet had squeezed Jane's hand, and had said, with passionate emphasis: "Oh! it was such a near thing! and when I saw him throw up his dear little hands, and when I noticed that his little brown head went under the waves, I thought I should go mad. Your five pounds, my own future, all the happiness that I had planned for myself, seemed to me as nothing at all--as nothing at all at that awful moment."