"But we can reach the house at the foot of the hill!" said Fanny.
"No time to lose!"
And so saying, Verty took Redbud's hand, and leaving Fanny to Ralph, hastened down the hill.
Before they had gone twenty steps, the thunder gust burst on them furiously.
The rain was blinding—terrible. It scudded along the hill-side, driven by the wind, with a fury which broke the boughs, snapped the strong rushes, and flooded everything.
Redbud, who was as brave a girl as ever lived, drew her chip hat closer on her brow, and laughed. Fanny laughed for company, but it was rather affected, and the gentlemen did not consider themselves called upon to do likewise.
"Oh, me!" cried Verty, "you'll be drenched, Redbud! I must do something for your shoulders. They are almost bare!"
And before Redbud could prevent him, the young man drew off his fur fringed coat and wrapped it round the girl's shoulders, with a tenderness which brought the color to her cheek.
Redbud in vain remonstrated—Verty was immovable; and to divert her, called her attention to the goings on of Ralph.
This young gentleman had no sooner seen Verty strip off his coat for Redbud, than with devoted gallantry he jerked off his own, and threw it over Miss Fanny; not over her shoulders only, but her head, completely blinding her: the two arms hanging down, indeed, like enormous ears from the young girl's cheeks.