What is the theme of the Queen of Water?

What is the theme of the Queen of Water? Josh!” patting him, and very glad of his companionship. When all was Margaret Howes glanced at Elinor, as she sat quietly with chin in one pink palm, her brows drawn level and her dark eyes steady and thoughtful.,"You bet. Me an' old Harry know right where it is. We ain't told another soul but you and teacher Stanhope 'bout it yet, but we're goin' to soon. Come on an' I'll show you where it's buried.",Lawyer Maddoc and Doctor Cavinalt had gone back to Cleveland, promising to return every fall so long as their welcome held out and Billy was there to guide them about and save their lives, if necessary.,"Why, teacher, it's jest as bright as ever," cried the boy. "It fair seems to laugh as it swings 'round an' jumps down the bay like a long, white arm.","Hey? Oh, all right, all right. Stanhope's a fine youngster, but poor, poor."，"Oh, on the night it was stolen, I was seated on the veranda after dinner, and I saw my mother come out with Dido. They did not know I was there, as I sat in the shade. I saw Dido speak to my mother and point toward your house. Then she waved her hands before my mother's face, whereupon my mother turned and walked swiftly past where I was seated. I saw her face; it was quite white, and her eyes were open and glassy. She--"，Patricia's heart sank, but she concealed her feelings sufficiently to reassure Miss Jinny, who went on briskly:，The first intimation the boys had of the approaching rapids was the increasing speed of the boat. As they looked ahead the water seemed clear and unbroken, but some current stronger than usual was hurrying them along."Yep; they don't seem to take to the crick water," Billy replied. "It's sort of scummy an' smells queer."

Miss Jinny, who was still enshrouded save for the torn veil, gave the last pat to Patricia's gauzes, and handed the pink silk cloak to the admiring maid, before she spoke. Then she looked Patricia over thoroughly and gave her husky chuckle.,Hurriedly she gets into her furs, and, twisting some soft black lace around her throat, runs down the stairs, and, opening the hall door without seeing any one, makes her way towards the appointed spot.,These sorrowful reflections caused her many tears; the Frog, who truly loved her, seeing her cry like this, said to her one day: "If you would like me to do so, madam, I will go and find the King, your husband; the journey is long, and I travel but slowly; but, sooner or later, I shall hope to arrive." This proposal could not have been more warmly received than it was; the Queen clasped her hands, and made Moufette clasp hers too, in sign of the gratitude she felt towards Madam Frog, for offering to undertake the journey. She assured her that the King also would not be ungrateful; "but," she continued, "of what use will it be to him to know that I am in this melancholy abode; it will be impossible for him to deliver me from it?" "Madam," replied the Frog, "we must leave that to Heaven; we can only do that which depends on ourselves.","She will be arriving shortly, I think.","I guessed as much," said Jen, grimly. "And who drugged you?","No, I bored it but it belongs to Pennsylvania Scroggie, the man whom you helped defeat the Southern lease ring.","I ain't a fool, sir," said the tramp, with a sheepish grin. "I should, you bet.",But no sooner had they come into the little kitchen where Tellef’s mother was roasting coffee over an open fire than John said:,"I do," said Harry unhesitatingly.,David spoke so fervidly that Jen saw plainly he meant what he said. The massive face of the young man looked worn and haggard in the searching light of the morning, and whatever enmity the love of the same woman had sown between him and the dead, it was not to be denied that he was suffering cruelly from remorse at their unhappy difference. Jen was sorry, but even in his own grief he could not forbear a stab.,"You gotta take a chance. I took one." Billy urged the punt forward across the creek to where the grinning and highly delighted Maurice waited.,To-morrow will be market-day in Bantry, to which the week's butter must go; and now the churning is over, and the result of it lies cold and rich and fresh beneath Mona's eyes. She herself is busily engaged printing little pats off a large roll of butter that rests on the slab before her; her sleeves are carefully tucked up, as on that first day when Geoffrey saw her; and in defiance of her own heart—which knows itself to be sad—she is lilting some little foolish lay, bright and shallow as the October sunshine that floods the room, lying in small silken patches on the walls and floor..