'I think this shower is nearly over now; do you think we may venture to go, aunt?' inquired Clara, who partook of her aunt's anxiety respecting her cousin.
'Yes, dear; we have nothing on to spoil. A few drops will not do us any harm, and I fancy we shall have another downpour if we wait longer.'
This was Aunt Mary's decided opinion, and on the strength of it, the anxious pair set forward on their way home, which place they certainly would not have reached with dry clothing, had not careful Bridget suddenly made her appearance with cloaks and umbrellas.
This was rather an uncomfortable ending to a pleasant evening, but life has ever its ups and downs, its sunlight and its shadows, for the young as well as for the old. So it has ever been, and so it will ever be to the end of time.
It would have been well for Mabel Ellis if the spoiling of her dress had been the worst result of her foolish pride. And yet, perhaps, I ought not to say that it would not have been well had the trouble ended there. Adversity is a very stern, but a very wise teacher. We may not always see this to be so, and we may be very loth to acknowledge it, but it is a fact nevertheless. Aunt Mary's first thought, when she entered the house, was for Mabel, whom she found by the kitchen fire drying her petticoat, the muslin dress having been taken off, and hung over a chair.
'Have you changed shoes and stockings, my dear?' was the first question, which was answered in the negative. But we will leave further details for the next chapter.
CHAPTER XVII.
A SERIOUS ILLNESS.
As we have before stated, Mabel had only changed her upper garments. Stockings and shoes, though soaked through in coming along the wet grass, she had not thought of, and her wet petticoat steamed and smoked as she stood drying it by the kitchen fire.