"I could go over the work again
with pleasure," cried he.
"Nonsense, Hart! You could not."
"And I _will_ go over it," he added, warming with the opposition. "Who'll
try his strength with me? There's plenty of time before dinner."
"I will," eagerly spoke young Carteret, who had been, as was remarked,
one of those on land, and was wild to be handling the oars. "If Dawkes
will let me have his skiff, I'll bet you ten to five you are distanced
again, Hartledon."
Perhaps Lord Hartledon had not thought his challenge would be taken
seriously. But when he saw the eager, joyous look of the boy Carteret--he
was not yet nineteen--the flushed pleasure of the beardless face, he
would not have retracted it for the world. He was just as good-natured
as Percival Elster.
"Dawkes will let you have his skiff, Carteret."
Captain Dawkes was exceedingly glad to be rid of it. Good boatman though
he was, he rarely cared to spend his strength superfluously, when nothing
was to be gained by it, and had no fancy to row his skiff back to its
moorings, as most of the others were already doing with theirs. He leaped
out.
"Any one but you, Hartledon, would be glad to come out of that
tilting thing, and enjoy a rest, and get your face cool," cried the
countess-dowager.
"I dare say they might, ma'am. I'm afraid I am given to obstinacy; always
was. Be quick, Carteret.
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