After the Storm

"Irene." And now his arm stole around her. She yielded, and,

turning, laid her head upon his shoulder.

There had been a little storm in the maiden's heart, consequent upon

the slight restraint ventured on by her lover when she drew back

from the window; and it was only now subsiding.

"I did not mean to offend you," said the young man, penitently.

"Who said that I was offended?" She looked up, with a smile that

only half obliterated the shadow. "I was frightened, Hartley. It is

a fearful storm!" And she glanced toward the window.

The lover accepted this affirmation, though he knew better in his

heart. He knew that his slight attempt at constraint had chafed her

naturally impatient spirit, and that it had taken her some time to

regain her lost self-control.

Without, the wild rush of winds was subsiding, the lightning gleamed

out less frequently, and the thunder rolled at a farther distance.

Then came that deep stillness of nature which follows in the wake of

the tempest, and in its hush the lovers stood again at the window,

looking out upon the wrecks that were strewn in its path. They were

silent, for on both hearts was a shadow, which had not rested there

when they first stood by the window, although the sky was then more

deeply veiled. So slight was the cause on which these shadows

depended that memory scarcely retained its impression. He was

tender, and she was yielding; and each tried to atone by loving acts

for a moment of willfulness.

The sun went down while yet the skirts of the storm were spread over

the western sky, and without a single glance at the ruins which

lightning, wind and rain had scattered over the earth's fair

surface. But he arose gloriously in the coming morning, and went

upward in his strength, consuming the vapors at a breath, and

drinking up every bright dewdrop that welcomed him with a quiver of

joy. The branches shook themselves in the gentle breezes his

presence had called forth to dally amid their foliage and sport with

the flowers; and every green thing put on a fresher beauty in

delight at his return; while from the bosom of the trees--from

hedgerow and from meadow--went up the melody of birds.

In the brightness of this morning, the lovers went out to look at

the storm-wrecks that lay scattered around. Here a tree had been

twisted off where the tough wood measured by feet instead of inches;

there stood the white and shivered trunk of another sylvan lord,

blasted in an instant by a lightning stroke; and there lay, prone

upon the ground, giant limbs, which, but the day before, spread

themselves abroad in proud defiance of the storm. Vines were torn

from their fastenings; flower-beds destroyed; choice shrubbery,

tended with care for years, shorn of its beauty. Even the solid

earth had been invaded by floods of water, which ploughed deep

furrows along its surface. And, saddest of all, two human lives had

gone out while the mad tempest raged in uncontrollable fury.