After the Storm

"They have not taken from my heart any of the love it has felt for

you," said Margaret, tears coming into her eyes.

"I know that, Margaret. You were always too kind and indulgent, and

I always too wayward and unreasonable. But I am getting years on my

side, and shall not always be a foolish girl."

Snow had now begun to fall thickly, and the late December day was

waning toward the early twilight. Margaret went down stairs and left

Irene alone in her chamber, where she remained until nearly tea-time

before joining her father.

Mr. Delancy did not altogether feel satisfied in his mind about this

unheralded visit from his daughter, with whose wayward moods he was

too familiar. It might be all as she said, but there were intrusive

misgivings that troubled him.

At tea-time she took her old place at the table in such an easy,

natural way, and looked so pleased and happy, that her father was

satisfied. He asked about her husband, and she talked of him without

reserve.

"What day is Hartley coming up?" he inquired.

"I hope to see him on the day before Christmas," returned Irene.

There was a falling in her voice that, to the ears of Mr. Delancy,

betrayed a feeling of doubt.

"He will not, surely, put it off later," said the father.

"I don't know," said Irene. "He may be prevented from leaving early

enough to reach here before Christmas morning. If there should be a

cold snap, and the river freeze up, it will make the journey

difficult and attended with delay."

"I think the winter has set in;" and Mr. Delancy turned his ear

toward the window, against which the snow and hail were beating with

violence. "It's a pity Hartley didn't come up with you."

A sober hue came over the face of Irene. This did not escape the

notice of her father; but it was natural that she should feel sober

in thinking of her husband as likely to be kept from her by the

storm. That such were her thoughts her words made evident, for she

said, glancing toward the window-"If there should be a deep snow, and the boats stop running, how can

Hartley reach here in time?"

On the next morning the sun rose bright and warm for the season.

Several inches of snow had fallen, giving to the landscape a wintry

whiteness, but the wind was coming in from the south, genial as

spring. Before night half the snowy covering was gone.

"We had our fears for nothing," said Mr. Delancy, on the second day,

which was as mild as the preceding one. "All things promise well. I

saw the boats go down as usual; so the river is open still."