After the Storm

After the closing of the marriage ceremony some two or three hours

passed before the time of departure came. The warm congratulations

were followed by a gay, festive scene, in which glad young hearts

had a merry-making time. How beautiful the bride looked! and how

proudly the gaze of her newly-installed husband turned ever and ever

toward her, move which way she would among her maidens, as if she

were a magnet to his eyes. He was standing in the portico that

looked out upon the distant river, about an hour after the wedding,

talking with one of the bridesmaids, when the latter, pointing to

the sky, said, laughing-"There comes your fate."

Emerson's eyes followed the direction of her finger.

"You speak in riddles," he replied, looking back into the maiden's

face. "What do you see?"

"A little white blemish on the deepening azure," was answered.

"There it lies, just over that stately horse-chestnut, whose

branches arch themselves into the outline of a great cathedral

window."

"A scarcely perceptible cloud?"

"Yes, no bigger than a hand; and just below it is another."

"I see; and yet you still propound a riddle. What has that cloud to

do with my fate?"

"You know the old superstition connected with wedding-days?"

"What?"

"That as the aspect of the day is, so will the wedded life be."

"Ours, then, is full of promise. There has been no fairer day than

this," said the young man.

"Yet many a day that opened as bright and cloudless has sobbed

itself away in tears."

"True; and it may be so again. But I am no believer in signs."

"Nor I," said the young lady, again laughing.

The bride came up at this moment and, hearing the remark of her

young husband, said, as she drew her arm within his-"What about signs, Hartley?"

"Miss Carman has just reminded me of the superstition about

wedding-days, as typical of life."

"Oh yes, I remember," said Irene, smiling. "If the day opens clear,

then becomes cloudy, and goes out in storm, there will be happiness

in the beginning, but sorrow at the close; but if clouds and rain

herald its awakening, then pass over and leave the sky blue and

sunny, there will be trouble at first, but smiling peace as life

progresses and declines. Our sky is bright as heart could wish." And

the bride looked up into the deep blue ether.

Miss Carman laid one hand upon her arm and with the other pointed

lower down, almost upon the horizon's edge, saying, in a tone of

mock solemnity-"As I said to Mr. Emerson, so I now say to you--There comes our

fate."

"You don't call that the herald of an approaching storm?"

"Weatherwise people say," answered the maiden, "that a sky without a

cloud is soon followed by stormy weather. Since morning until now

there has not a cloud been seen."' "Weatherwise people and almanac-makers speak very oracularly, but

the day of auguries and signs is over," replied Irene.