to arrive, and find no one to meet him. 

 On the 28th of July I started off as usual. I wore a short tweed skirt, brown stockings—my ankles were, and are, good—a calico blouse, and a red tam-o’-shanter. Ponto barked at my heels. In one hand I carried my blue twill bathing-gown. In the other a miniature alpenstock. The sun had risen sufficiently to scatter the slight mist of the summer morning, and a few flecked clouds were edged with a slender frame of red gold. 

 Leisurely, and with my presentiment strong upon me, I descended the steep cliffside to the cave on the left of the bay, where, guarded by the faithful Ponto, I was accustomed to disrobe; and soon afterwards I came out, my dark hair over my shoulders and blue twill over a portion of the rest of me, to climb out to the point of the projecting rocks, so that I might dive gracefully and safely into the still blue water. 

 I was a good swimmer. I reached the ridge on the opposite side of the bay without fatigue, not changing from a powerful breast-stroke. I then sat for a while at the water’s edge to rest and to drink in the thrilling glory of what my heart persisted in telling me was the morning of my life. 

 And then I saw Him. 

 Not distinctly, for he was rowing a dinghy in my direction, and consequently had his back to me. 

 In the stress of my emotions and an aggravation of modesty, I dived again. With an intensity like that of a captured conger I yearned to be hidden by the water. I could watch him as I swam, for, strictly speaking, he was in my way, though a little farther out to sea than I intended to go. As I drew near, I noticed that he wore an odd garment like a dressing-gown. He had stopped rowing. 

 I turned upon my back for a moment’s rest, and, as I did so, heard a cry. I resumed my former attitude, and brushed the salt water from my eyes. 

 The dinghy was wobbling unsteadily. The dressing-gown was in the bows; and he, my sea-god, was in the water. Only for a second I saw him. Then he sank. 

 How I blessed the muscular development of my arms. 

 I reached him as he came to the surface. 

 “That’s twice,” he remarked contemplatively, as I seized him by the shoulders. 

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