“I shan’t bother you again, Mr. Howe,” she called bitterly.
Martin made no reply but raised the lantern higher that it might brighten the rough path. Unheeding him, the girl stumbled through the darkness, the rain beating down upon her.
As she neared the house a faint glow flickered through the shrubbery, making it evident that her aunt had already arrived home. Nervously she mounted the porch and turned to look behind her. At the foot of the drive stood Martin, the lantern high in his hands.
Now that Lucy was safely within the shelter of her own domain, her sense of humor overcame her, and with an irresistible desire to torment him, she called mischievously from her vantage ground on the veranda:
“Thank you so much for bringing me home, Mr. Howe. Can’t I persuade you to come in?” 132
There was a smothered exclamation of wrath in the distance, and she saw a gleam of light precipitate itself hastily into the road, where, for a moment, it flashed along the tree trunks, then disappeared.
Lucy laughed.
Ellen was in the kitchen when she entered.
“Where on earth have you been?” she demanded. “I should ’a’ thought you might ’a’ come back in time to start the fire up an’ get supper. It’s awful late. Was it Tony you was talkin’ to outside?”
“No.”