"Good night," called the girl. "I must run."

Evidently, she WAS running. Therefore the young man ran after her. He
caught up with her in a moment, in spite of some stumbles over the rough
road.

"Here!" he commanded, "you must take the umbrella. Really, you must. You
haven't one and you'll be wet through."

She pushed the umbrella aside.

"No, no," she answered. "I don't need it; I'm used to wet weather; truly
I am. And I don't care for this hat; it's an old one. You have a long
way to go and I haven't. Please, Mr. Ellery, I can't take it."

"Very well," was the sternly self-sacrificing reply, "then I shall
certainly go with you."

"But I don't wish you to."

"I can't help that. I'm not going to let you go unprotected through
this flood. Especially as you might have been at home before this if you
hadn't stopped to speak with me."

"But you mustn't."

"I shall."

Here was the irresistible force and the immovable object. They stood