"Of course he had _no_ right to get into my boat, mamma," said Carlisle, dribbling water. "None whatever. That is what I told him, from the beginning. His name is Dalhousie. I--that part makes no dif--" "Dalhousie! Colonel Dalhousie's son!--that young sot! Why, you don't know him, do you?--you never met him in your life--" "Please don't storm and rant, mamma. It only makes things worse. As I was saying, when you interrupted, I--I met this man once--a long time ago. Some one introduced him, I suppose. That must have been it. I--I've never seen him from that time. He hadn't the faintest right to get into my boat--not the faintest. He--" "But what did he do it _for_? What did he want? What was his purpose, I say?" Carlisle turned away with a wet skirt to hang. It was certainly very difficult to explain things to mamma. "Oh, mamma!--How can I tell you why he wanted to get into my boat? All this just wastes time. Perhaps he thought he would have a little flirtation. Perhaps he wanted to rest from his--" "What did he _say_ when he got in? He didn't just step on like you were a street car, did he? Speak up! What ex--" "That's just it! That's just what he did. He climbed in, and didn't say a word. I at once told him to get out. That is what we talked about _entirely_. Then at last he got out, in--in an angry way--shaking the boat, and then I--I went over--" "It passes belief! The young ruffian, after upsetting you, simply deserted--Were you in the water long? Are you cold? Do you feel like you were going to have chills?" "No--I feel well enough, physically.... But--mamma--" "You're going to have chills--that's it. No wonder! Wait! I never in my life!..." She whisked into her bedroom, and, returning with the travelling-bag, produced a bijou flask with a silver top that turned into a little drinking-cup. Into the top she swiftly poured a thimbleful of excellent French brandy. "Drink this. It will keep them off." And she added: "It passes belief...." And then she walked the floor, her unexpected hands, so oddly stubbed and thick, clasped before her. "You called out to him, of course? You screamed for his assistance?" Carlisle, choking over the inflammatory draught, set the silver top down on the bureau. There was a gratifying absence of cynicism in her manner. She was always, as her mother knew, a serious girl at heart. She had to drink nearly half a glass of water before she could dislodge all the brandy from her larynx. "Oh, mamma--how can I remember just exactly what I did? Please be reasonable. I was too excited and frightened, suddenly plunged into the water, to think what I was doing. The point--" "You must have cried out. Of course you screamed for his assistance. And the young blaggard ... What time is it? Five o'clock? Then Willie's train is already in ..."