Hilliard came running to meet me. "You've fallen into the water--you are
wet! I hope you're not hurt?" he exclaimed, as he reached me.
It was on the tip of my tongue to answer sharply, "I _have_ fallen into
the water; did you expect me to be dry?" It was such a _silly_ speech of
his! But I was afraid of Mrs. Erveng, so I just said carelessly,--as if
I were in the habit of tumbling into the ocean with all my clothes on
every day in the week,--"Oh, I just slipped off one of the rocks; I got
my feet wet." And there I was, mind you, wet almost to my waist, and
such a figure!
Any one of our boys--even Jack, and he is pretty dense sometimes--would
have seen the joke, and we'd have had a hearty laugh, anyway, out of the
situation; but not a smile appeared on Hilliard's face. Either he didn't
see the fun at all, or else he was too deadly polite to laugh. If he had
even said roughly, "Didn't I _tell_ you not to go there!" I wouldn't
have minded it as much as his "How unfortunate!" and his helpless look.
I was afraid to say anything for fear I'd be rude again, so we walked up
to the piazza in solemn silence.
"Good morning!" Mrs. Erveng said pleasantly, as I laboured up the steps.
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