"I shan't go on until you tell me what all this is about. Don't get into a temper. If you kick the bottom of the boat like that your foot will go through and we shall both be in the water."

"You really are too provoking, Lucius. I'll never speak to you again if you don't go on directly."

Lucius began to paddle on slowly. "Now, tell me," he said, "why you wanted to come."

"Well, if you must know, that girl betted me a box of chocolates that I wouldn't, and I do love them so and I've spent all last quarter's allowance and can't afford to buy any. Now do go on, Lucius, there's a good boy. We have only got to get up to the Bridge of Sighs and back, and I shall get them."

Lucius stopped again. "I don't know that I want you to get them particularly," he said, "after what you have said about not wanting to come with me. Didn't you want to come with me a bit?"

"No, of course not."

"Not a little bit?"

"No."

"Then I shan't go on."

"Oh--oh--oh! I feel as if I should like to throw something at you."

"Well, why don't you? Look, there's the girl on the bank grinning at you. How pleased she'll be if I let her win."

"Horrid thing, she is! But I hate you worse still. I feel as if I could do anything to you now."

"What, hurt poor little Cousin Lucy? Oh, Betty, for shame!"

"Well, if you won't go on, turn back then, and I'll get out. Only I'll never speak to you again as long as I live."

"I say, Betty, are you very fond of chocolates?"

"Yes, I am, but I wouldn't sit here for another five minutes for all the chocolates in the world. Turn round and go back, please."

Lucius put his hand behind his back, and drew out the big box already mentioned.

"Look here; let's stop and eat these here, while that girl looks on.

Then we'll go up to St. John's and back and you can have hers too."

This plan commended itself to Betty, and she spent a happy ten minutes while the girl on the bank strolled about and pretended to be admiring the Chapel of King's and the beautiful College of Clare, which are both seen to advantage at the point where the canoe had stopped.

There is a time when even Buszard's most expensive confections cease to charm. When this time had arrived for Betty, she said, "I don't much care if I don't get the others now, but I know I shall want them to-morrow, so paddle on, Lucius. I'm much more pleased with you now."

"Thank you, Betty," said Lucius, and the canoe proceeded on its way, under the Clare, Hostel, and Trinity Bridges with the graceful willows sweeping the water, round the curve where the cla.s.sical front of the Trinity library looks severely towards the paddocks and the elms, and under the wall of the Master of Trinity's garden, where a blossoming tree showed a ma.s.s of delicate pink against the red-tile gables of Neville's Court, under yet another bridge flanked by the stone eagles of St. John's, and between the walls of that college until they reached their goal, the covered bridge, which, through no merit of its own, has usurped the name of the Bridge of Sighs.

"Thank you," said Betty. "Now be quick and get back. What a sell for that girl! and we haven't met anybody to matter either."

"Plenty of time for that. We've got to get all the way back again. I didn't tell you before, because I thought you would be frightened, but you remember Dizzy whom you met in my rooms last term when your mother was up?"

"Yes, I hope he isn't coming out, is he?"

"Well, I'm afraid he is. It's an old standing engagement; he promised to row a party of Newnham dons--seven of them--on the Backs this morning."

For one moment Betty's face blanched with terror. Then she said, "You are a donkey, Lucius. Hurry up, please."

But Lucius wasn't going to hurry up. He was very well content with his present position. Betty reclined opposite to him in a graceful att.i.tude, the brilliant colour of the j.a.panese umbrella a setting to her pretty face.

"Why did you put on that pretty frock?" asked Lucius.

"Because it is so hot; just like summer."

"I know why you put it on."

"Of course you do when I've just told you."

"You put it on because you wanted me to think how pretty you looked in it."

"I didn't do anything of the sort. Don't be so silly."

"You do look awfully pretty in it, you know."

"Now, Lucius, if you begin saying that sort of thing I shall get out."

"All right. The river is shallow here. It won't come much above your shoulders."

"Be quiet, and go on."

"I am going on. I say, Betty!"

"Well?"

"Do you remember those lectures last October term?"

"Yes, pretty well; I've got the notes of them at home if you want them."

"Bother the notes! Do you remember how regular I was?"

"How should I? I didn't know you then."

"Oh, you wicked story! You knew who I was perfectly well, you little witch, and you let me go on like that for two whole terms without making a sign. It was cruel of you."

"Well, did you expect me to stop you in the street and say I was your cousin, when you had never taken the trouble to call on me?"

"You know I thought you were at Girton. Father said you were, and there _is_ someone called German there."

"Yes, and you went to Girton such a lot, didn't you?"

"I could swear now when I think what an idiot I was."

"Then don't do it, please, although I quite agree with you. And, of course, you were much too grand to come and see us at Christmas."

"Confound it! I say, Betty, was it you who got me asked there?"