He is opening the door.

I knew it was he." "Mother! mother!" "Here I am, Steve." He came in rosy and wet with his climb up the fellside; and, as he kissed his mother, he put out his hand to Charlotte.

Then there was the pleasantest stir of care and welcome imaginable; and Steve soon found himself sitting opposite the girl he loved so dearly, taking his cup from her hands, looking into her bright, kind eyes, exchanging with her those charming little courtesies which can be made the vehicles of so much that is not spoken, and that is understood without speech.
But the afternoons were now very short, and the happy meal had to be hastened.

The clouds, too, had fallen low; and the rain, as Ducie said, "was plashing and pattering badly." She folded her own blanket-shawl around Charlotte; and as there was no wind, and the road was mostly wide enough for two, Steve could carry an umbrella, and get her safely home before the darkening.
How merrily they went out together into the storm! Steve thought he could hardly have chosen any circumstances that would have pleased him better.

It was quite necessary that Charlotte should keep close to his side; it was quite natural that she should lift her face to his in talking; it was equally natural that Steve should bend towards Charlotte, and that, in a moment, without any conscious intention of doing so, he should kiss her.
She trembled and stood still, but she was not angry.