She wore a close-fitting waterproof dress and cap.

Her hair was loosened, her cheek freshened by the storm.

He came up with her; he took her hand, his eyes dancing with the joy he could not hide.
'What are you made of, I wonder ?' he said, gayly.

'Nothing, certainly, that minds weather.' 'No Westmoreland native thinks of staying at home for this,' she said, with her quiet smile, moving on beside him as she spoke.
He looked down upon her with an indescribable mixture of feelings.

No stiffness, no coldness in her manner--only the even gentleness which always marked her out from others.