For from behind, over head and parasol, had come an umbrella, and now came a voice and an audible sigh of pleasure.
"I little thought when I left home this afternoon," said the voice, "that I should have such a happiness before night!" At the sound of the voice Letty gave a cry, which ran through all the shapes of alarm, of surprise, of delight; and it was not much of a cry either.
"O Tom!" she said, and clasped the arm that held the umbrella.

How her foolish heart bounded! Here was help when she had sought none, and where least she had hoped for any! Her aunt would have her run from under the umbrella at once, no doubt, but she would do as she pleased this time.

Here was Tom getting as wet as a spaniel for her sake, and counting it a happiness! Oh, to have a friend like that--all to herself! She would not reject such a friend for all the aunts in creation.

Besides, it was her aunt's own fault; if she had let her stay with Mary, she would not have met Tom.

It was not her doing; she would take what was sent her, and enjoy it! But, at the sound of her own voice calling him Tom, the blood rushed to her cheeks, and she felt their glow in the heart of the chill-beating rain.
"What a night for you to be out in, Letty," responded Tom, taking instant advantage of the right she had given him.