"I will;" and Percival made a dash at the row of pegs and caught down the first thing which looked moderately like a cloak. Then he escaped.
Sissy was coming to the house, but so leisurely that the journey was likely to take her a considerable time. "At last!" she said as he came up to her: "Why, which way—Oh, it's you, Percival!"
"You thought I was Horace?" he said as he put the cloak round her.
"Yes, for the moment I did. What are you muffling me up like this for?"
"Orders," said Percival. "My grandfather said you were to come in, and that I was to bring you a shawl."
"What is the good of this thing if I'm to go in?"
"Very sensibly put. Evidently no good at all. So we will turn round and go to the end of the terrace and back, unless you are tired."
She was not tired.
"And you took me for Horace? I always said we were alike."
"You are not a bit alike."