Next
came Elnora, dressed with equal richness, a trifle taller and slenderer,
almost the same type of colouring, but with different eyes and hair,
facial lines and expression. She was led by the second O'More boy who
convulsed the crowd by saying: "Tareful, Elnora! Don't 'oo be 'teppin'
in de water!"
People surged around them, purposely closing them in.
"What lovely women! Who are they? It's the O'Mores. The lightest one is
his wife. Is that her sister? No, it is his! They say he has a title in
England."
Whispers ran fast and audible. As the crowd pressed around the party
an opening was left beside the fish sheds. Edith ran down the dock.
Henderson sprang after her, catching her arm and assisting her to the
street.
"Up the shore! This way!" she panted. "Every one will go to dinner the
first thing they do."
They left the street and started around the beach, but Edith was
breathless from running, while the yielding sand made difficult walking.
"Help me!" she cried, clinging to Henderson. He put his arm around her,
almost carrying her from sight into a little cove walled by high rocks
at the back, while there was a clean floor of white sand, and logs
washed from the lake for seats. He found one of these with a back rest,
and hurrying down to the water he soaked his handkerchief and carried it
to her. She passed it across her lips, over her eyes, and then pressed
the palms of her hands upon it. Henderson removed the heavy hat, fanned
her with his, and wet the handkerchief again.
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