PEGGY-IN-THE-RAIN
"Well, it's going by fast. Why, it's halfway to Augusta now. I dare say it's looking for the river. They say thunderstorms follow the rivers. I guess this one got lost in the woods, eh?"
"Pro-probably," she gasped.
"You're staying in Aiken?" he asked.
"Yes."
"We haven't met before, have we? But that's a silly question to ask. If we had I'd have remembered."
"I've been here only a few days."
"I see." The rain stopped as suddenly as it had begun, and a strange silence held the forest. The storm was dying away toward the south. "May I ask whether he is yours?" Gordon nodded toward the horse. "I've seen him before, I'm sure."
"No, he isn't mine. He—was loaned to me. This habit, too." She glanced down at the wet gray linen skirt. "It's—a mess, isn't it?"
The color was creeping back into her cheeks now and she withdrew her hand from his.
"It will wash, won't it?" he asked carelessly.
"I suppose so. Oh, there's the sun!"
10
