"I think you had better let me take her—and you," he said; and seeing that she still hesitated, he cut the Gordian knot by lifting Jenny into the cart and holding out his hand for Lucy.
Then when she was seated he got out a big carriage umbrella and put it up for them, and quickly slipping off his waterproof, arranged it on the seat behind so that it completely covered them.
"Oh, but you will get wet!" remonstrated Lucy, much distressed; but he laughed and made light of the business.
"We Londoners like getting wet sometimes," he said. "It is a change, you see. In London we take as much care of ourselves as if a spot of rain would kill us."
"Oh, I know," said Lucy, with shy pride. "I have lived in London for some time."
"I thought you said you were used to the country?" he remarked.
"So I am—I was born in the country," Lucy explained, in her frank, simple manner—a manner, by the way, which possesses a greater charm for some, indeed most, men, than all the cultivated artificialities.
"I have lived all my life," she said—"all my life"—as if she were at least ninety—"in the country until I went up to London to cram for my exam."
"Your exam.?" he said, invitingly, and yet not obtrusively, and there was nothing in the interest displayed in his face which indicated presumptuous or idle curiosity.