'We'd happen better be getting back, Henry,' said the Alderman.
The 'Fay' swept home like a bird. They were at the quay, and Kelly was dragging them one by one from the black dinghy on to what the Alderman called _terra-firma_. Henry had the fish on a string.
'How many did ye catch, Miss Tellwright?' Kelly asked benevolently.
'I caught four,' Anna replied. Never before had she felt so proud, elated, and boisterous. Never had the blood so wildly danced in her veins. She looked at her short blue skirt which showed three inches of ankle, put forward her brown-shod foot like a vain coquette, and darted a covert look at Henry. When he caught it she laughed instead of blushing.
'Ye're doing well,' Tom Kelly approved. 'Ye'll make a famous mackerel-fisher.'
Five of the mackerel were given to young Tom, the other four preceded a fowl in the menu of dinner. They were called Anna's mackerel, and all the diners agreed that better mackerel had never been lured out of the Irish Sea.
In the afternoon the Alderman and his wife slept as usual, Mr. Sutton with a bandanna handkerchief over his face. The rest went out immediately; the invitation of the sun and the sea was far too persuasive to be resisted.
'I'm going to paint,' said Beatrice, with a resolute mien. 'I want to paint Bradda Head frightfully. I tried last year, but I got it too dark, somehow. I've improved since then. What are you going to do?'
'Oh, no, you won't. At least you won't; you're such a critic. Anna can if she likes.'
'What! And me be left all afternoon by myself?'
'Well, suppose you go with him, Anna, just to keep him from being bored?'
Anna hesitated. Once more she had the uncomfortable suspicion that Mynors and herself were being manoeuvred.
'Look here,' said Mynors to Beatrice. 'Have you decided absolutely to paint?'
'Absolutely.' The finality of the answer seemed to have a touch of resentment.
'Then'--he turned to Anna--'let's go and get that dinghy and row about the bay. Eh?'
She could offer no rational objection, and they were soon putting off from the jetty, impelled seaward by a mighty push from Kelly's arm. It was very hot. Mynors wore white flannels. He removed his coat, and turned up his sleeves, showing thick, hairy arms. He sculled in a manner almost dramatic, and the dinghy shot about like a water-spider on a brook. Anna had nothing to do except to sit still and enjoy. Everything was drowned in dazzling sunlight, and both Henry and Anna could feel the process of tanning on their faces. The bay shimmered with a million diamond points; it was impossible to keep the eyes open without frowning, and soon Anna could see the beads of sweat on Henry's crimson brow.