It was a favourite retreat, for the boat-house and the
landing were but a rod away, and after a row on the river the shaded
summer-house was a pleasant place in which to linger.
"Hush!" breathed Evelyn, stopping short as they neared the summer-house.
They advanced with caution, and presently, as they drew within speaking
distance of the little structure, they saw a white-clad figure emerge
from it and stand just outside. Jeff drew Evelyn quickly and silently
into the shelter of a cluster of hemlocks.
After a space the dip of oars lightly broke the stillness of the night,
and soon a row-boat pulled quietly into view, with one dark figure
outlined against the gleam of the moonlit water. Evelyn caught a
smothered sound from Jeff, whether of recognition or of displeasure she
could not tell. She felt her own pulses throbbing with excitement and
anxiety.
The stranger pulled in to the landing, noiselessly shipped his oars,
jumped out and made fast. Lucy came cautiously down to the wharf, and
against the radiance of the moonlight on the river the two behind the
trees could see the greeting.
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