"we will now bathe," said a voice at the back of my neck.

i gave a grunt and went on with my dream. it was a jolly dream, and nobody got up early in it.

"we will now bathe," repeated archie.

"go away," i said distinctly.

archie sat down on my knees and put his damp towel on my face.

"when my wife and i took this commodious residence for six weeks," he said, "and engaged the sea at great expense to come up to its doors twice a day, it was on the distinct understanding that our guests should plunge into it punctually at seven o'clock every morning."

"don't be silly, it's about three now. and i wish you'd get off my knees."

"it's a quarter-past seven."

"then there you are, we've missed it. well, we must see what we can do for you to-morrow. good-night."

archie pulled all the clothes off me and walked with them to the window.

"jove, what a day!" he said. "and can't you smell the sea?"

"i can. let that suffice. i say, what's happened to my blanket? i must have swallowed it in my sleep."

"where's his sponge?" i heard him murmuring to himself as he came away from the window.

"no, no, i'm up," i shouted, and i sprang out of bed and put on a shirt and a pair of trousers with great speed. "where do i take these off again?" i asked. "i seem to be giving myself a lot of trouble."

"there is a tent."

"won't the ladies want it? because, if so, i can easily have my bathe later on."

"the ladies think it's rather too rough to-day."

"perhaps they're right," i said hopefully. "a woman's instinct—no,

i'm not a coward."

it wasn't so bad outside—sun and wind and a blue-and-white sky and plenty of movement on the sea.

"just the day for a swim," said archie cheerily, as he led the way down to the beach.

"i've nothing against the day; it's the hour i object to. the lancet says you mustn't bathe within an hour of a heavy meal. well, i'm going to have a very heavy meal within about twenty minutes. that isn't right, you know."

by the time i was ready the wind had got much colder. i looked out of the tent and shivered.

"isn't it jolly and fresh?" said archie, determined to be helpful.

"there are points about the early morning, after all."

"there are plenty of points about this morning. where do they get all the sharp stones from? look at that one there—he's simply waiting for me."

"you ought to have bought some bathing shoes. i got this pair in the village."

"why didn't you tell me so last night?"

"it was too late last night."

"well, it's much too early this morning. if you were a gentleman you'd lend me one of yours, and we'd hop down together."

archie being no gentleman, he walked and i hobbled to the edge, and there we sat down while he took off his shoes.

"i should like to take this last opportunity," i said, "of telling you that up till now i haven't enjoyed this early morning bathe one little bit. i suppose there will be a notable moment when the ecstasy actually begins, but at present i can't see it coming at all. the only thing i look forward to with any pleasure is the telling dahlia and myra at breakfast what i think of their cowardice. that and the breakfast itself. good-bye."

i got up and waded into the surf.

"one last word," i said as i looked back at him. "in my whole career i shall never know a more absolutely beastly and miserable moment than this." then a wave knocked me down, and i saw that i had spoken too hastily.

the world may be divided into two classes—those who drink when they swim and those who don't. i am one of the drinkers. for this reason i prefer river bathing to sea bathing.

"it's about time we came out," i shouted to archie after the third pint. "i'm exceeding my allowance."

"aren't you glad now you came?" he cried from the top of a wave.

"very," i said a moment later from inside it.

but i really did feel glad ten minutes afterwards as i sat on the beach in the sun and smoked a cigarette, and threw pebbles lazily into the sea.

"holbein, how brave of you!" cried a voice behind me.

"good-morning. i'm not at all sure that i ought to speak to you."

"have you really been taking the sea so early," said myra as she sat down between us, "or did you rumple each other's hair so as to deceive me?"

"i have been taking the sea," i confessed. "what you observe out there now is what i left."

"oh, but that's what i do. that's why i didn't come to-day—because i had so much yesterday."

"i'm a three-bottle man. i can go on and on and on. and after all these years i have the most sensitive palate of any man living. for instance, i can distinguish between scarborough and llandudno quite easily with my eyes shut. speaking as an expert, i may say that there is nothing to beat a small cromer and seltzer; though some prefer a ventnor and dash. ilfracombe with a slice of lemon is popular, but hardly appeals to the fastidious."

"do you know," said archie, "that you are talking drivel? nobody ought to drivel before breakfast. it isn't decent. what does dahlia want to do to-day, myra?"

"mr simpson is coming by the one-thirty."

"good; then we'll have a slack day. the strain of meeting simpson will be sufficient for us. i do hope he comes in a yachting cap—we'll send him back if he doesn't."

"i told him to bring one," said myra. "i put a p.s. in dahlia's letter—please bring your telescope and yachting cap. she thought we could have a good day's sailing to-morrow, if you'd kindly arrange about the wind."

"i'll talk to the crew about it and see what he can do. if we get becalmed we can always throw somebody overboard, of course. well, i must go in and finish my toilet."

we got up and climbed slowly back to the house.

"and then," i said, "then for the heavy meal."