"It's raining!" suddenly exclaimed Betty, holding up her hand to make sure.
A drop splashed on it. Then another. Amy looked up into the clouds overhead.
"Oh!" she cried. "A drop fell in my eye."
Then with a suddenness that was surprising, the shower came down hard.
Little dark spots mottled the white dust of the road.
"Run!" cried Mollie. "There's a house. We can stay on the porch until the rain passes. The people won't mind."
A little in advance, enclosed with a neat red fence, and setting back some distance from the road was a large, white house, with green shutters. The windows in front were open, as was the front door, and from one casement a lace curtain flapped in the wind.
"Run! Run! We'll be drenched!" cried Grace, thinking of her new walking suit. Without more ado the girls hurried through the gate, up the gravel walk and got to the porch just as the rain reached its maximum. It was coming down now in a veritable torrent.
"Queer the people here don't shut their door," remarked Betty.
"And see, the rain is coming in the parlor window," added Amy.
"Maybe they don't know it," suggested Grace. "Oh, the wind is blowing the rain right in on us!" she cried.