It was nearing midnight, and the clouds being thick and low made the
mossy ground very dark. The rain was coming down heavily and everything
pointed to a wild night.
"I'm sorry I did not bring a coat with me," said Peter, taking the
windward side of Mysie, so as to break the storm for her. "I had no idea
that it was going so rain when I came away," and they plowed their way
through the long rough grass, plashing through the little pools they
were unable to see, while the wind raged and tore across the moor in a
high gale.
He had a key in his pocket and when they arrived at Rundell House he
noiselessly opened the door, and they entered, slipping along like
burglars.
When Mysie reached her room, she sat down to think matters over for
herself, forgetful of the fact that she was wet. She sat a long time
pondering in her slow untrained way over the arrangements which had been
come to, her mind trying to get accustomed to the thought that she was
going to be Peter's wife and to leave Lowwood.
But somehow the thought of being his wife did not appeal to her now, as
it had done when she had pictured herself the lady of the district with
her dreams of everything she desired, and fancying herself the envy of
every woman who knew her.
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