This she proceeded to do, and before the treatment had been applied for half an hour a good deal of Pauline’s acute pain had vanished.
“I feel better,” she said, turning to Nancy. “I feel stronger and braver.”
“You will feel still braver when you have had your cup of tea. And here’s a nice hunch of cake. Put it into your pocket if you can’t eat it now. We had best be going; the farm people may be about, and there’s no saying—it’s wonderful how secrets get into the air.”
Pauline looked startled. She again took Nancy’s hand, and they left the house together.
Now, it so happened that the the morning was by no means as fine as those lovely mornings that had preceded it. There was quite a cold wind blowing, and the sky was laden with clouds.
“We’ll have rain to-day,” said Nancy; “rain, and perhaps thunder. I feel thunder in the air, and I never was mistaken yet. We must be quick, or we’ll both be drenched to the skin.”
Accordingly the two walked quickly through the Forest path. But before they reached the wicket-gate the first mutterings of thunder were audible, and heavy drops of rain were falling.
“I must leave you now, Paulie,” said Nancy, “for if I go any farther I’ll be drenched to the skin. Climb up your tree, get into your bedroom, and go to bed. If you can manage to send that white dress over to me, I will put on a patch that even your aunt will not see. Put on another dress, of course, this morning, and say nothing about the burn. Good-bye, and good luck! I’ll be over about six o’clock to-morrow evening to talk over our midnight picnic.”
“And the thimble,” said Pauline. “You won’t forget the thimble.”
“Not I. Good gracious, what a flash! You had best get home at once; and I must run for my life or I may be struck down under all these trees.”