“Perchance when I return I can see more of it,” said the maiden philosophically as they were getting ready for their departure early the next morning. “I hope that you can, my dear,” said Nurse Johnson. “’Twill be a hard ride to-day, for we want to make Colchester by nightfall. I have a cousin there with whom we can stop, which will be vastly more pleasurable than to stay at an ordinary. If we do not make the place to-night there would be no time for visiting to-morrow.” The roads were good and hard, and the riding pleasant in the early morning. But as the day advanced the atmosphere became sultry, and Peggy was conscious of more fatigue than she had felt at any time through the journey. “Fairfax must change with you, and let you ride Star for a time,” spoke Mrs. Johnson, regarding her with solicitude. “I am sure that will rest you.” “I think it will,” answered Peggy. “I do feel just a little weary of the carriage, friend nurse. Perhaps thy son would like the change also? It must be lonely for him riding all alone.” Nurse Johnson laughed as she caught the girl’s look. “You must not mind his not talking,” she said. “I think he hath never spoken to a girl in his life. Still, he is a good son, for all his shyness.” The change to Star’s back was made, and they started forward at renewed speed. Peggy’s spirits rose as she found herself on the little mare, and she rode ahead of the vehicle sometimes, or sometimes alongside of it chatting gayly. So pleasantly did the time pass that none of them noticed that the sky had become overcast with clouds. A heavy drop of rain falling upon her face compelled the girl’s attention. “Why, ’tis raining,” she exclaimed in surprise. “There’s going to be a thunder-storm,” cried Nurse Johnson viewing the clouds in dismay. “How suddenly it hath come up. Fairfax, we must put in at the nearest plantation. Let Peggy get back in with me so that she will not get wet. Then we must make speed.” The lad got out of the vehicle obediently, and approached the girl to assist her from the horse. As she sprang lightly to the ground, he gazed at her earnestly for a moment as though realizing the necessity of speech, and said: “It looks like rain.” As he spoke the far horizon was illuminated by a succession of lurid flashes of lightning which shone with fiery brilliancy against the black masses of thunder-clouds. The muttering of thunder told that the storm was almost upon them. The fact was so evident that no living being could deny it. The lad’s observation differed so from what she had expected from him that there was no help for it, and Peggy gave way to a peal of merry laughter. “I cry thee pardon, Friend Fairfax,” she gasped. “It doth indeed look like rain.” For a second the young fellow stood as though not realizing the full import of what he had said, and then, as heavy drops began to patter rapidly through the trees, the girl’s merriment infected him and he too burst into laughter.