There stood Mrs.
Thornburgh, the light drizzle into which the rain had declined beating unheeded on her curls and ample shoulders.

She stared at Robert's drenched condition, but he gave her no time to make remarks.
'Don't take it off,' he said, with a laughing wave of the hand to Catherine; 'I will come for it to-morrow morning.' And he ran up the drive, conscious at last that it might be prudent to get himself into something less spongelike than his present attire as quickly as possible.
The vicar followed him.
'Don't keep Catherine, my dear.

There's nothing to tell.

Nobody's the worse.' Mrs.Thornburgh took no heed.

Opening the iron gate, she went through it on to the deserted rain-beaten road, laid both her hands on Catherine's shoulders, and looked her straight in the eyes.