‘Not in this rain?’
‘Oh, I don’t care for the rain. We are out in all weathers; it will not take ten minutes.’ She had already turned and was hastening on in the direction she had indicated with a friendly desire to serve him, at which Leo admired and wondered. ‘Besides, I don’t call this bad rain,’ said Emmy cheerfully, ‘it is so soft and warm. But for habit I should prefer to have no umbrella. But you, perhaps, would like a share of mine?’
‘Thanks, it would do me no good and hamper you. I am as wet as I can be.’
‘Yes, you are very wet I see. Well, there is one good thing, you cannot be any worse now, and you must change as soon as you get in. When one is only a little wet one does not see the need, but when it is as bad as that you must. This way: I am afraid it is a little dirty, Mr. Swinford,’ said Emmy, with a tone of apology, as if it were somehow her fault.
‘It is not very clean,’ he said, with a laugh, ‘but it is worse for you than for me. I have an object, but you have none, save kindness,’ he added, with a grateful look that pleased Emmy.
‘If it were kindness,’ she said, ‘that is the best object of all. But I can’t claim that, for it is a pleasure to help a—friend if one can, in such a very little thing.’
‘You hesitated, Miss Plowden, before you said a friend.’
‘Yes,’ she said, with the faint little laugh of embarrassment, ‘I was not sure that I knew you enough to use that name.’
‘I hope,’ cried Leo, ‘you will never doubt that again after all the rain and mud you have faced to help me.’
‘Oh,’ said Emmy, ‘I would do as much for any one—if I had never seen them before: I should be a poor creature indeed if I took credit for this. Is that your lady, Mr. Swinford, running down the lane to the station? I am afraid she will be late for her train. Run on, please—never mind me—I’ll follow and see if you find her, though,’ she called after him cheerfully.