But Philip protested that he was dying and couldn't walk a step, and that somebody must go for his grandfather's carriage.
"I'll go," said Philip's friend.
"No," said May, decidedly, "Philip must keep moving or he'll take cold. Come, Philip, take my arm, and your friend——"
"My name is Rob Lawrence," interrupted the boy.
"And Rob will take your other arm, and you can get along nicely," May continued.
Philip took the proffered arms very meekly and the procession moved; Philip, Rob and May abreast, and Phyllis in the next rank, carrying May's hat and weeping quietly from sheer excitement. When they reached the Brentwood's, they helped exhausted Philip in at a side door. "I want you to come in with me," he said.
"I can't, I'm so wet," said May; "I'll come down by and by."
"I want you to come in now; I may be dead by and by," said Philip, tragically.
So they went in, Rob, May, and Phyllis, the latter privately convinced that some new infliction was in store for her favorite. This was an unnecessary suspicion, as she soon learned.