"I had to give in," Grace told him; "it wasn't any good saying 'no.' I have had two rehearsals with Hero, and I was to have had another this morning, but directly after breakfast I slipped away out of the town; then I wandered about in the fields and woods till I was so tired I couldn't go farther, and I crept in here and lay down."
"How long have you been here, I wonder?"
"I don't know. I've been asleep. When your little dog woke me, I thought for a minute that Hero had turned on me. You won't tell any one you've seen me here, will you? This is a fine hiding-place."
"But you can't stay here altogether, Grace."
The child pushed her heavy hair back from her face, and sighed. "My head aches dreadfully," she said in a plaintive tone; "it's ached for days, and it makes me feel so stupid. No, I can't stay here altogether; if I did, Max might find me. By and by I shall go on."
"But where are you going?"
"I don't know."
"And it's raining. Listen! If you were out in weather like this, you'd be wet to the skin in a few minutes. Good gracious!"
A vivid flash of forked lightning had lit up the kiln momentarily; it was followed immediately by a deafening peal of thunder, and the little girl cowered against the wall, hiding her eyes.
"I came here for shelter from the rain," Tom explained; "but I didn't guess a storm was so near. It seems right overhead, doesn't it? Don't be frightened, Grace; I don't think we shall come to any harm here. Look at Tim! Isn't he funny? He can never understand what thunder is."