"Surely not out, sir—it rains fast."
"True: which, however, is no guarantee that she is not at this moment cantering over Rushedge. Of late she has never permitted weather to he a hinderance to her rides."
"You remember, Mr. Moore, how wet and stormy it was last Wednesday? so wild, indeed, that she would not permit Zoë to be saddled; yet the blast she thought too tempestuous for her mare, she herself faced on foot: that afternoon she walked nearly as far as Nunnely. I asked her, when she came in, if she was not afraid of taking cold. 'Not I,' she said, 'it would be too much good luck for me. I don't know, Harry; but the best thing that could happen to me would be to take a good cold and fever, and so pass off like other Christians.' She is reckless, you see, sir."
"Reckless, indeed! Go and find out where she is; and if you can get an opportunity of speaking to her, without attracting attention, request her to come here a minute."
"Yes, sir."
He snatched his crutch, and started up to go.
"Harry!"
He returned.
"Do not deliver the message formally. Word it as, in former days, you would have worded an ordinary summons to the school-room."
"I see, sir; she will be more likely to obey."
"And Harry"
