d the town like
a sturdy bulldog, and beyond it were the wooded hills, already lost in
a mist of rain.

"Oh, I shall be too late," moaned the Girl. But she held her hat
steady with one hand and ran on. If she could only reach the pavilion
in time! It was a neck-and-neck race between the rain and the Girl,
but the Girl won. Just as she flew out upon the shore road, a tall
Young Man came pelting down the latter, and they both dashed up the
steps of the pavilion together as the rain swooped down upon them and
blotted George's Island and the smoky town and the purple banks of the
Eastern Passage from view.

The pavilion was small at the best of times, and just now the rain was
beating into it on two sides, leaving only one dry corner. Into this
the Girl moved. She was flushed and triumphant. The Young Man thought
that in all his life he had never seen anyone so pretty.

"I'm so glad I didn't get my hat wet," said the Girl breathlessly, as
she straightened it with a careful hand and wondered if she looked
very blown and blowsy.

"It would have been a pity," admitted the Young Man. "It is a very
pretty hat."

"Pretty!" The Girl looked the scorn her voice expressed. "Anyone can
have a _pretty_ hat. Our cook has one. This is a _creation_."

"Of course," said the Young Man humbly. "I ought to have known. But I
am very stupid."

"Well, I suppose a mere man couldn't be expected to understand
exactly," said the Girl graciously.

She smiled at him in a friendly fashion, and he smiled back. The Girl
thought that she had never seen such lovely brown eyes before. He
could not be a Haligonian. She was sure she knew all the nice young
men with brown eyes in Halifax.

"Please sit down," she said plaintively. "I'm tired."

The Young Man smiled again at the idea of his sitting down because the
Girl was tired. But he sat down, and so did she, on the only dry seat
to be found.

"Goodness knows how long this rain will last," said the Girl, making
herself comfortable and picturesque, "but I shall stay here until it
clears up, if it rains for a week. I will _not_ have my hat spoiled. I
suppose I shouldn't have put it on. Beatrix said it was going to rain.
Beatrix is such a horribly good prophet. I detest people who are good
prophets, don't you?"

"I think that they are responsible for all the evils that they
predict," said the Young Man solemnly.

"That is just what I told Beatrix. And I was determined to put on this
hat and c