Terry dashed upstairs, and Sim and Arden made for the screen-enclosed porch.
A cool, almost cold, wind whipped their hair in their eyes and snapped the awnings viciously as they hurriedly worked.
“Isn’t it glorious, Sim?” Arden asked, pulling with all her might at an awning rope.
“I don’t like it,” Sim answered and gave a little squeal at a flash of lightning.
“Look at the ocean—it’s all gray, and just a little while ago it was so blue. Oh, dear, Sim, let’s pull together!” Arden wrapped the rope around her hand, and they both tugged vigorously.
The awning went up with a rush, and the girls hurried to the next one. Upstairs a window slammed as Terry went on with her job. The sky was as dark as night now, and the lightning flashed with increased brilliance; sometimes in flaming vastness, then again in piercing arrows.
Suddenly the rain came. Dashing down in silver sheets, it quickly drove Arden and Sim inside. Terry came running downstairs, and they all gathered in the living room, where they could watch the fury of the storm over the ocean.
“Are you frightened, girls?” Terry’s mother asked, as she saw Sim wince at a thunderclap. “You mustn’t be. The storm will follow the bay right out to sea. They never last long when it gets as black as this. It’s mostly wind, and it blows out quickly.”
“I love it,” Arden replied. “I think it’s beautiful. But it makes us seem so small and....” She hesitated. A new noise could be distinguished above the roar of the storm. The little group, with one accord, turned to a side window from whence the sound seemed to come. What they saw made poor frightened Sim gasp. It was a white peering face, with hair plastered down by the rain, and a questioning look in the eyes.
“Terry! Go to the door! Let her in!” Mrs. Landry called, quickly realizing this was a girl’s face.