"You have been out in the rain?"
"O Queechy rain don't hurt me, uncle Rolf."
"And don't it wet you either?"
"Yes sir--a little."
"How much?"
"My sleeves,--O I dried them long ago."
"Don't you repeat that experiment, Fleda," said he seriously, but with a look that was a good reward to her nevertheless.
"It is a raw day!" said Mrs. Rossitur, drawing her shoulders together as an ill-disposed window sash gave one of its admonitory shakes.
"What little panes of glass for such big windows!" said Hugh.
"But what a pleasant prospect through them," said Fleda,--"look, Hugh!--worth all the Batteries and Parks in the world."