What do girls do who have n't any mothers to help them through their troubles ? '' The dry-goods stores were not down among the counting-houses , banks , and wholesale warerooms , where gentlemen most do congregate , but Jo found herself in that part of the city before she did a single errand , loitering along as if waiting for someone , examining engineering instruments in one window and samples of wool in another , with most unfeminine interest , tumbling over barrels , being half-smothered by descending bales , and hustled unceremoniously by busy men who looked as if they wondered ` how the deuce she got there ' . A drop of rain on her cheek recalled her thoughts from baffled hopes to ruined ribbons . For the drops continued to fall , and being a woman as well as a lover , she felt that , though it was too late to save her heart , she might her bonnet . Now she remembered the little umbrella , which she had forgotten to take in her hurry to be off , but regret was unavailing , and nothing could be done but borrow one or submit to a drenching . She looked up at the lowering sky , down at the crimson bow already flecked with black , forward along the muddy street , then one long , lingering look behind , at a certain grimy warehouse , with ` Hoffmann , Swartz , & Co. ' over the door , and said to herself , with a sternly reproachful air ... `` It serves me right ! what business had I to put on all my best things and come philandering down here , hoping to see the Professor ? Jo , I 'm ashamed of you ! No , you shall not go there to borrow an umbrella , or find out where he is , from his friends . You shall trudge away , and do your errands in the rain , and if you catch your death and ruin your bonnet , it 's no more than you deserve . Now then ! '' With that she rushed across the street so impetuously that she narrowly escaped annihilation from a passing truck , and precipitated herself into the arms of a stately old gentleman , who said , `` I beg pardon , ma'am , '' and looked mortally offended . Somewhat daunted , Jo righted herself , spread her handkerchief over the devoted ribbons , and putting temptation behind her , hurried on , with increasing dampness about the ankles , and much clashing of umbrellas overhead . The fact that a somewhat dilapidated blue one remained stationary above the unprotected bonnet attracted her attention , and looking up , she saw Mr. Bhaer looking down . `` I feel to know the strong-minded lady who goes so bravely under many horse noses , and so fast through much mud . What do you down here , my friend ? '' `` I 'm shopping . '' Mr. Bhaer smiled , as he glanced from the pickle factory on one side to the wholesale hide and leather concern on the other , but he only said politely , `` You haf no umbrella . May I go also , and take for you the bundles ? '' `` Yes , thank you . ''
XXXXX 's cheeks were as red as her ribbon , and she wondered what he thought of her , but she did n't care , for in a minute she found herself walking away arm in arm with her Professor , feeling as if the sun had suddenly burst out with uncommon brilliancy , that the world was all right again , and that one thoroughly happy woman was paddling through the wet that day .
Bhaer Jo Professor clashing deuce drenching fall loitering right warerooms