rath on all their heads.

"Indeed I don't in the least need an umbrella," Lucy protested. "I'll run
right along. Please do not bother."

"You'll get wet an' be sick," Mary declared, launching into the
conversation at the mention of possible chills and fevers.

Lucy laughed unsteadily.

"Oh, no, I shan't. Good night."

She had crossed the veranda and was at the brink of the flight of steps
when heavy feet came striding after her.

"Wait! I'm goin' with you," said a tense voice. It was Martin.

"Thank you very much, but I really don't need anybody."

"I'm goin'," repeated the man doggedly.

"I don't want you to," Lucy returned curtly, nettled into irritability.

"Likely not," observed Martin with stolid determination.

"I wish you wouldn't," fretted Lucy angrily. "I'd much rather----"

It was like a child helplessly dashing itself against a wall. Martin paid
no attention to her protests. With a lighted lantern in one hand and an
umbrella in his other, he set forth with Lucy down the driveway.

Overhead the trees wrenched and creaked, and above the lashings of their
branches the rain could be heard beating with fury upon the tossing
foliage. Once in the blackness Lucy stumbled and, following the instinct
for self-preservation, put out her hand and caught Martin's arm; then she
drew her hand quickly away. They proceeded in silence until they reached
the gate at the foot of the long Webster driveway; then the man spoke:

"'Tain't fur now," he said, halting short. "I'll give you the umbrella."
He held it out to her.

"But you'll get drenched."

"No, indeed!"

"But you will," insisted Lucy with spirit.

"No matter."

"It is matter. Besides, I can't see my way to the house without the
lantern. It's dark as pitch."

"Take 'em both, then."

"Of course I shan't," replied the girl indignantly. "And anyway, if I did,
I couldn't carry the two in this wind. If I can't have but one, I'd rather
have the lantern."

"That's nonsense!" Martin returned.

"What use was there in my bringin' you home if you get soaked now?"

"But I can't see an inch before my face without a light."

"Just as you say, then. Here it is." Holding out the lantern, he took back
the umbrella.

"But you certainly are not going to leave me to go up that long avenue in
the rain," burst out Lucy.

"You said you didn't mind rain," retorted the man ironically.

He stood immovable in the torrent, but the lantern glow showed his face to
b