A driving rain poured down upon North Carolina as he left the coast. The sea showed its white teeth at Hatteras and all along the sandy spits and islands that fringe that shore. Every one said that still uglier weather was likely to come soon. But to Dennie the drenching showers and the hurly-burly of the winds only enhanced the gladness in his heart. He basked in the delicious glow of cosiness which children feel when snugly housed from pelting storms that they can watch at ease. The slow-paced cars seemed to him to glide ahead with wonderful swiftness--his own happy anticipation lent speed to the wheels--and the humming rails echoed and rang again with one continual song of hope, hope, hope. How many fond, encouraging things he would say to Adela! How bright he would make the prospect for her! He would show her, beyond question, that she need never undergo any trials or troubles which he could prevent. It was not so easy to do all this, at first, as he had imagined it would be. On meeting, they were both rather quiet. Dennie took her hand bashfully: he discovered all at once that he was in the presence of a superior being. The muscles of his right arm, also, appeared to succumb to a peculiar disorder, and would not act when he wanted to throw that arm around her waist. Good Lord! was he afraid? Had he been afraid to clasp her in his arm a year before? But gradually this paralytic attack wore itself out: he sat down beside her, and presently his right hand was visible to his own eyes, resting easily at a point on the right side of her belt. "I'm glad to be with ye again, Deely," he said, carefully eliminating as much of the gruffness as he could from his strong out-of-doors voice. But the hearty gruffness that remained was, somehow, very agreeable to Adela. "Dear old Dennie," she said, in a gentle, musing way, as if she were speaking of him to some third person. "And ye're glad, too, be ye, Deely?" he asked, gazing at her indulgently, but with some vestiges of anxious doubt. "Yes, Dennie, I'm glad to be with you; you're so good now. And I like to see you happy." "That's a puss," said the big fellow, but instantly felt astonishment at his own familiarity. Finding, too, that he was instinctively patting her with his hand, he promptly stopped, because it struck him that his hand was too rough, and he might hurt or crush her. He drew it softly away to a more normal position. "Why, they tell me," he resumed, "that ye're a great lady now--a sort o' prin_cess_, or su'thin' that way, I didn't know for sure ye'd want to see me or have me hangin' round ye no more." And then he laughed at the deceptiveness and the wild humor of his own speech. "Oh, Dennie," she implored, "don't talk about that! What difference does it make?"