"Do not be unduly alarmed, Sarah," calmly remarked Edith. "It was an accident—oh, such an extraordinary accident, Sarah, and so ridiculous on my part that I still feel the effects of it on my mirthful nature."
"Tell me all about it, my dear Edith?" said Sarah, now buttoning up the back of Edith's dinner gown.
"If you will not tell—promise?"
"You have my promise, Edith; but you wouldn't keep such a secret from your mother, would you?"
"I do not want to, Sarah; but I am afraid, if I tell her, she will scold me."
"Now, what did you do, Edith?" asked Sarah.
"Stood in the rain the longest time talking to the strange young man."
"Why, Edith!" exclaimed Sarah, for the fifth or sixth time.
"No why about it, Sarah. It was an unavoidable accident. I ran into him, he into me. My hat fell off, rolled into the gutter, and my umbrella was rendered limp in one of its poor wings. Now, could I help that, Sarah?"
"Perhaps not."