CHAPTER XII. THE SHOWER

henbadeNancygood-eveningcheckinghertoolivelygratitudebytheundeniableassurancethatIhadonlydoneforherwhatshewouldhavedoneforme,ifshehadbeeninmyplaceandIinhers.IhastenedbacktoHortonLodge,where,havingenteredtheschoolroom,Ifoundthetea-tableallinconfusion,thetrayfloodedwithslops,andMissMatildainamostferocioushumour. “MissGrey,whateverhaveyoubeenabout?I’vehadteahalfanhourago,andhadtomakeitmyself,anddrinkitallalone!Iwishyouwouldcomeinsooner!” “I’vebeentoseeNancyBrown.Ithoughtyouwouldnotbebackfromyourride.” “HowcouldIrideintherain,Ishouldliketoknow.Thatdamnedpeltingshowerwasvexatiousenough—comingonwhenIwasjustinfullswing:andthentocomeandfindnobodyintotea!andyouknowIcan’tmaketheteaasIlikeit.” “Ididn’tthinkoftheshower,”repliedI(and,indeed,thethoughtofitsdrivingherhomehadneverenteredmyhead). “No,ofcourseyouwereundershelteryourself,andyouneverthoughtofotherpeople.” Iborehercoarsereproacheswithastonishingequanimity,evenwithcheerfulnessforIwassensiblethatIhaddonemoregoodtoNancyBrownthanharmtoher:andperhapssomeotherthoughtsassistedtokeepupmyspirits,andimpartarelishtothecupofcold,overdrawntea,andacharmtotheotherwiseunsightlytableand—Ihadalmostsaid—toMissMatilda’sunamiableface.Butshesoonbetookherselftothestables,andleftmetothequietenjoymentofmysolitarymeal.