"Oh, I'm ashamed of you, Sylvia," laughed Edna. "Now you have to find another just his size, Mr. Dunham. She has to have a pair." "She does, eh?" returned John resignedly. "I don't know what I'll draw out of this grab bag next," and he plunged his arm in again. "No, no, you mustn't do that!" cried Edna,--"clouding up the water like that. We have to peer. Come and peer, Sylvia." They all leaned over the side of the pool. "See that little starfish? He's lost a leg already in his short career; and those pretty anemones! Why didn't I bring a pail. I shall make an aquarium for you on the piazza, and we'll have anemones, and undistinguished urchins who will never be in a cabinet or hold candles, and starfish, and barnacles. Oh, there's a baby, John. Quick, _there_! Oh, I can get it myself." She reached down in a flash and drew forth a tiny urchin. "You startled me so," said John plaintively. "You said a baby, and I couldn't see even a bulrush." "Oh, I shall educate you in time," returned Edna. "There, Sylvia, that will be the infant member of your cabinet." "It seems pretty low down to kidnap a fellow of that size," remarked Dunham. "But she's going to have a complete set of urchins,--from a little green pea to a personage." "When you reach the personage class, remember me, Miss Sylvia. I have other references than this scoffing maiden." Sylvia smiled. "But perhaps you wouldn't care to carry candles." "Not care to burn candles before you? Of course I should." "He's at it again, Sylvia," sighed Edna. "It's dreadful to have a starved man on our hands." "Starved. That reminds me. Pardon me, ladies, if I look at my watch. Ah, half an hour's grace. I am going to ask you both to dine with me to-day. The procession moves at one sharp. If there are any signs of reluctance on the part of the hostess and her guest, I am to take one in each hand, with whatever fishy impedimenta cannot be lost, and repair with you to your cot. Miss Martha has spoken." Edna laughed. "I'd forgotten, John, just what a shy flower you were!" she said. CHAPTER XXI A SWIMMING LESSON