“Yes, if it rains this afternoon as fast as it does now, I think the brook will be quite, high towards night.”
Rollo was much pleased to hear this. He told Lucy, after dinner, that the brook looked magnificently in a freshet; that the banks were brimming full, and the water poured along in a great torrent, foaming and dashing against the logs and rocks.
“Then, besides, Lucy,” said he, “we can carry down our little boats and set them a sailing. How they will whirl and plunge along down the stream!”
Lucy liked the idea of seeing the freshet, too, very much; though she said she was afraid it would be too wet for her to go. Rollo told her never to fear, for his father would contrive some way to get her down there safely, and they both went to the back entry door again, looking out, and wishing now that it would rain faster and faster, as they did before dinner that it would cease to rain.
“But,” said Lucy, “what if it should not stop raining at all, to-night?”
“O, it will,” said Rollo, “I know it will. Besides, if it should not, we can go down to-morrow morning, you know, and then there will be a bigger freshet. O how full the brook will be by to-morrow morning!”
And Rollo clapped his hands, and capered with delight.
“Yes,” said Lucy, soberly, “but I must go home to-night.”
“Must you?” said Rollo. “So you must. I did not think of that.”
“But I think,” continued he, “that it will certainly clear up to-night. I will go and ask father if he does not think so too.”