"I will do everything that I can, father, to keep the sky of our

lives always bright, except give up my own freedom of thought and

independence of action. A wife should not sink her individuality in

that of her husband, any more than a husband should sink his

individuality in that of his wife. They are two equals, and should

be content to remain equals. There is no love in subordination."

Mr. Delancy sighed deeply: "Is argument of any avail here? Can words

stir conviction in her mind?" He was silent for a time, and then

said-"Better, Irene, that you stop where you are, and go through life

alone, than venture upon marriage, in your state of feeling, with a

man like Hartley Emerson."

"Dear father, you are altogether too serious!" exclaimed the

warm-hearted girl, putting her arms around his neck and kissing him.

"Hartley and I love each other too well to be made very unhappy by

any little jar that takes place in the first reciprocal movement of

our lives. We shall soon come to understand each other, and then the

harmonies will be restored."

"The harmonies should never be lost, my child," returned Mr.

Delancy. "In that lies the danger. When the enemy gets into the

citadel, who can say that he will ever be dislodged? There is no

safety but in keeping him out."

"Still too serious, father," said Irene. "There is no danger to be

feared from any formidable enemy. All these are very little things."

"It is the little foxes that spoil the tender grapes, my daughter,"

Mr. Delancy replied; "and if the tender grapes are spoiled, what

hope is there in the time of vintage? Alas for us if in the later

years the wine of life shall fail!"

There was so sad a tone in her father's voice, and so sad an

expression on his face, that Irene was touched with a new feeling

toward him. She again put her arms around his neck and kissed him

tenderly.

"Do not fear for us," she replied. "These are only little summer

showers, that make the earth greener and the flowers more beautiful.

The sky is of a more heavenly azure when they pass away, and the sun

shines more gloriously than before."

But the father could not be satisfied, and answered-"Beware of even summer showers, my darling. I have known fearful

ravages to follow in their path--seen many a goodly tree go down.

After every storm, though the sky may be clearer, the earth upon

which it fell has suffered some loss which is a loss for ever.

Begin, then, by conciliation and forbearance. Look past the

external, which may seem at times too exacting or imperative, and

see only the true heart pulsing beneath--the true, brave heart, that

would give to every muscle the strength of steel for your protection

if danger threatened. Can you not be satisfied with knowing that you

are loved--deeply, truly, tenderly? What more can a woman ask? Can

you not wait until this love puts on its rightly-adjusted exterior,

as it assuredly will. It is yet mingled with self-love, and its

action modified by impulse and habit. Wait--wait--wait, my daughter.

Bear and forbear for a time, as you value peace on earth and

happiness in heaven."




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