‘Thank you, Miss Pease. I am sorry you should have taken the trouble. I can go home well enough. I am not afraid of a little rain.’
‘A little rain!’ said Charley, trying to speak lightly.
‘Well, any amount of rain,’ I said.
‘But the lightning!’ expostulated Miss Pease in a timid voice.
‘I am something of a fatalist, Miss Pease,’ I said. ‘“Every bullet has its billet,” you know. Besides, if I had a choice, I think I would rather die by lightning than any other way.’
‘Don’t talk like that, Mr Cumbermede.—Oh! what a flash!’
‘I was not speaking irreverently, I assure you,’ I replied.—‘I think I had better set out at once, for there seems no chance of its clearing.’
‘I am sure Sir Giles would be distressed if you did.’
‘He will never know, and I dislike giving trouble.’
‘The room is ready. I will show you where it is, that you may go when you like.’