PEGGY-IN-THE-RAIN
"Yes, and now we'll frizzle up with heat. What time is it, I wonder." He looked at his watch and whistled. "By Jove, almost five! That storm must have lasted fully a half hour."
"Oh, I must get back!" she exclaimed in dismay. "They'll think something has happened to me!"
"Something has," he responded with a smile. "You've been marooned under a magnolia tree with a horse, a strange man and six quail. Isn't that a happening?"
She colored faintly. "Six quail?" she murmured.
"In my pockets. I'd been shooting. Garry Fessenden lets me pot his birds. He's abroad this winter. When the storm came up I was hiking for the old cabin back there. I'm glad, though, I missed it."
"So am I," she said simply. "I'd have died in another minute or two if you hadn't come. Or perhaps I'd have just fainted. I—I couldn't have stood it much longer, I know. I suppose it was—cheeky for me to call out to you"
"Cheeky! Rather not! It was very sensible. Besides, you were doing me a kindness; I'd have
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