"Dearest mamma, have you ever felt what it is like to be adrift, all alone by yourself, in a dinghy?--you know what that is, I am sure. I think that is how it is spelt. I hope you never have, for your own sake. It is awful! I could have screamed, only I dared not, for fear of upsetting the boat. I had never thought of the oars until I was adrift. And when I did think of them my heart went into my mouth--between ourselves, I believe it was there already. They were generally taken out of the boat at night. But, fortunately, Charlie had been too lazy the evening before and had left them in. And there they were, staring me in the face. I took hold of one very gently, but directly I began to lift it the boat began again to wobble. I tried to think I didn't care. I clenched my teeth and I kept on lifting the oar, and at last I got it straight up in the air--like a scaffold-pole. I had had no idea it was so heavy. It was all I could do to hold it; in fact, I couldn't hold it. To my horror it slipped out of my grasp and fell into the stream with a splash. It drenched me with water from head to foot. And there it was, floating about by itself, ever so far away.

"I quite abandoned hope. I gave myself up for lost. I tried to collect my presence of mind and to think of the Royal Humane Society's directions for drowning--which are printed on the board in Hyde Park, you know. Judged by the light of after events, losing that oar was the most fortunate thing which could have happened to me. If I had not lost it I should have drowned myself. My body might have been lying at the bottom of the river even now. But I did not know that at the time.

And after I had abandoned hope it was all I could do to keep from crying.

"Suddenly someone called to me from the bank. It was Charlie. He was not very well dressed; he had his towel over his arm; he was going for his morning bathe. But I don't think I ever had loved him so much as when I heard his voice and saw him standing there--no, not even in that glad moment when first he told me that he loved me and asked me to be his wife.

"'Oh, Charlie!' I cried. 'I'm drowning!'

"'That's all right!' It sounded unfeeling, but I knew what he meant.

'I'll swim out to you.'

"He leaped head foremost into the river as if it had been nothing at all, and swam out to me as if he had been a dog. He swam first of all to the oar, and then he swam to the boat.

"'Sit still!' he said.

"But it was not the slightest use my sitting still when he himself nearly pulled the boat right over. Almost before I knew it he was sitting on the seat in front of me, sopping wet and laughing.

"'What's the meaning of this?' he asked.

"'I'm learning to row.'

"'You looked as if you were learning to row! Well, have you learnt?'

"'Charlie, you're not to laugh at me! It isn't right. Some girls have people to teach them rowing--people who care for them, that is. But I haven't, so of course I have to teach myself. And I have to get up in the small hours of the morning to do it too.' I sighed--or I chose to let him think I did--'I might have been drowned.'

"'That's true--you might.' He looked at me hard, and I believe there was a twinkle in his eyes. But as I looked right past him, far across the water, and he saw that I was serious, I think that it went no further. 'Look here, Miss Whitby----'

"'You're not to call me Miss Whitby, Charlie!'

"'Very well, I won't. Look here, young person----'

"'And you're not to call me young person either. I'm not a young person.'

"'Then look here, old chap----'

"'Charlie Mason, if you call me old chap I'll get out of the boat this instant!'

"'That's right. Do.' He pretended to wait for me to get out. I was not so absurd. He went on: 'I don't know if you're aware that it's easier to learn rowing with one scull than with two?'

"'How was I to know that? No one ever told me. n.o.body takes sufficient interest in me to tell me anything.'

"'If you had betrayed the slightest sign of desiring the information I would have taken sufficient interest in you to tell you that. I came out here to have a dip. I have had half of it. During the interval, before I have the other half, I shall have pleasure in imparting to you that instruction for which your soul professes to yearn.' I had said nothing about my soul, or about yearning either; I am not so profane. He pointed to the seat behind me. 'Get on to that seat and sit in the middle.'

"'You must take the boat to sh.o.r.e first. You know how strongly I object to changing places while the boat is in the middle of the river; it does make it wobble so.'

"'Is the teacher to obey or to be obeyed? Execute my commands!'

"I 'executed his commands,' and the boat did not turn over. Charlie moved on to the seat which I had occupied. He showed me his back.

"'Do as I do.'

"I did as he did, or I tried to. He put one of the oars in its place in the water without the slightest difficulty. I did not find it by any means so easy.

"'May I ask, before we proceed any further, if it is your intention to knock me overboard?' He said that simply because I happened to hit him with my oar as I was lifting it. The thing would not go right. I daresay that I did knock him two or three times, but there was really no necessity why he should make a fuss, as he did do. 'Is your scull having a row with you, or are you having a row with it? What is the matter?'

"Thank you, nothing is the matter."

"I scorned to complain.

"'I'm glad to learn it; I hate to hear of people falling out. Now, are you all right?'

"'I am perfectly right.'

"He glanced round to inspect me.

"'Yes, you look perfectly right. You've got your scull the wrong way round.' I turned the thing. 'Now you've got it upside down.'

"'What do you mean? You don't mean to tell me that the other end ought to be in the water?'

"'No, I don't mean to tell you quite that, but I do mean to tell you that you ought to hold it so that the hollow part of the blade looks in front of you. It's an elementary fact, but it is a fact.' I turned the thing again. 'Suppose you put three or four feet more of it out of the boat. As you're holding it at present a good part of your scull seems to run to handle.' I pushed some more of the thing through the place they call the rowlock. 'I didn't tell you to put the whole of it out of the boat; it's just as well to keep something to catch hold of, if only for the look of the thing. If you observe, there's a strip of leather round the scull. That strip of leather marks the point where the scull is supposed to rest in the rowlock. That's better. Your hands are wrong; shift them. Hold your scull as I am holding mine.'

"It was all very well of him to talk like that, but it was most unfair, besides being ridiculous. His hands are, at least, twice as large as mine; he could get right hold of his oar, while I could scarcely get hold of mine at all. But I declined to argue.

"'Now, when I say "pull," pull. And it's about time that somebody did begin to pull, or very shortly we shall be aground. Now, pull!'

"For some reason, I don't know what, the boat began to turn right round. Charlie immediately stopped rowing. I had never begun. Of course, at once Charlie tried to be funny.

"'I see the progress of this boat is going to be conducted on the tee-to-tum principle. May I ask why you didn't pull?'

"'Because I couldn't.'

"'Why couldn't you?'

"'Because I couldn't get my oar out of the water.'

"'So I should imagine. There appears to be six feet more of it in the water than there ought to be. This is not intended to be a lesson in punting. In punting one desires to feel the bed of the river; you and I do not want to get quite so deep.'

"'I wish you wouldn't laugh at me.'

"'My dear May, nothing can be further from my thoughts. How could I dare? Let us try again. Before making our second effort I should, perhaps, tell you that it is advisable to put your scull in just deep enough to cover the blade, and then to pull it steadily out again.

There's no hurry. Take your time; there's no fear of our going ash.o.r.e just yet. At present we look more like crossing the river. Now, are you ready. When I say the word--pull!'

"Again the boat began to turn.

"'Charlie, I cannot get my oar out of the water. I'm not as strong as a horse.'

"He looked at me and laughed. I could have laughed, only I was afraid of crying; it was so vexing to feel one was so stupid.