By the time they reached the gate, Carlia was herself again, and inclined to look upon her wetting and escape as quite an adventure.
"There," said Dorian as he seated the girl on the broad top of the gate post; "I'll leave you there to dry.

It won't take long." He looked at his own wet clothes, and then at his ragged, mud-laden shoes.

He might as well carry the girl up the path to her home, but then, that was not necessary.

The day was warm, there was no danger of colds, and she could run up the path in a few minutes.
"Well, I'll go now.

Goodby," he said.
"Wait a minute--Say, I'm glad you saved me, but I'm sorry you lost your package.