“I mustn't keep you it is beginning to storm,” she said, taking up her muff, much to old Jacob's satisfaction, for small talk is not exciting to a hungry man whose nose feels like an icicle.
“Is it? I thought the sun was shining.” And the absorbed gentleman turned to the outer world with visible reluctance, for it looked very warm and cozy in the red-lined carriage.
“Wise people say we must carry our sunshine with us,” answered Rose, taking refuge in commonplaces, for the face at the window grew pensive suddenly as he answered, with a longing look, “I wish I could.” Then, smiling gratefully, he added, “Thank you for giving me a little of yours.”
“You are very welcome.” And Rose offered him her hand while her eyes mutely asked pardon for withholding her leave to keep it.
He pressed it silently and, shouldering the umbrella which he forgot to open, turned away with an “up again and take another” expression, which caused the soft eyes to follow him admiringly.
“I ought not to have kept him a minute longer than I could help, for it wasn't all pity; it was my foolish wish to show off and do as I liked for a minute, to pay for being good about the gown. Oh, me! How weak and silly I am in spite of all my trying!” And Miss Campbell fell into a remorseful reverie, which lasted till she got home.
“Now, young man, what brought you out in this driving storm?” asked Rose as Jamie came stamping in that same afternoon.
“Mama sent you a new book thought you'd like it. I don't mind your old storms!” replied the boy, wrestling his way out of his coat and presenting a face as round and red and shiny as a well-polished Baldwin apple.
“Much obliged it is just the day to enjoy it and I was longing for something nice to read,” said Rose as Jamie sat down upon the lower stair for a protracted struggle with his rubber boots.
“Here you are, then no yes I do believe I've forgotten it, after all!” cried Jamie, slapping his pockets one after the other with a dismayed expression of countenance.