It was decided she should stay till Monday
with Mrs. Pierce, who seemed anxious to befriend the girl, though so
poor herself; and Sara finally left them, still planning most amicably,
in order to reach home before darkness should necessitate Morton's
coming after her.
"How much cooler it seems!" she thought, as she stepped into the street,
glancing up at the sky, which was partially overcast with purplish-black
clouds; "I wish, now, I had brought a wrap."
She hurried on; but the storm moved more rapidly than she, and just as
she turned into the avenue she felt the splash of a large raindrop in
her face. She attempted to raise her umbrella, but a sudden squall of
wind nearly wrenched it from her grasp, and, becoming convinced it would
be impossible to hold it against the now shrieking blast, she made no
more effort to raise it, but ran on--the rain falling more heavily every
moment.
By the time she sprang up the steps into the shelter of the veranda, she
was thoroughly drenched. Morton met her there, just about to go in
search of her, with a waterproof and overshoes, and cried,--
"Why, Sara, how wet you are!"
"Yes," she shivered, "I'm drenched," and hurried on and up to her room
without more words.
By the time she was disrobed, however, that same sensation, as of utter
weariness, came over her, and she concluded to retire for the night,
telling Molly--who soon came up--that she was tired and thought she had
better get some rest.
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