'Will you have my arm?' said Silverbridge, who saw Miss Boncassen
scudding along, with Dolly Longstaff following as fast as he
could.
'Oh dear no. I have got to mind my dress. There;--I have gone
right into a puddle. Oh dear!' So she ran on, and Silverbridge
followed close behind her, leaving Dolly Longstaff in the
distance.
It was not only Miss Boncassen who got her feet into a puddle and
splashed her stockings. Many did so who were not obliged by their
position to maintain good-humour under misfortunes. The storm had
come on with such unexpected quickness that there had been a
general stampede to the summer-house. As Isabel had said, there
was comfortable room for not more than half of them. In a few
minutes people were crushed who never ought to be crushed. A
Countess for whom treble-piled sofas were hardly good enough was
seated on the corner of a table till some younger and less
gorgeous lady could be made to give way. And the Marchioness was
declaring she was as wet through as though she had been dragged in
a river. Mrs Boncassen was so absolutely quelled as to have
retired into the kitchen attached to the summer-house.
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