Tempest and Sunshine

Intuitively Kate left the room, consequently we have no means of knowing

what occurred during that interview, when Dr. Lacey, as it were, received

back from the arms of death his Fanny, whose recovery from that time was

sure though slow. Mr. Middleton, in the exuberance of his joy at having

his Sunshine restored, seemed hardly sane, but frequently kept muttering

to himself, "Yes, yes, I remember--I'll do it, only give me a little time";

at the same time his elbow moved impatiently, as if nudging off some

unseen visitor. What it was that he remembered and would do, was not known

for several days and then he informed his wife that when at first he

feared that Fanny should not live, he had racked his brain to know why

this fresh evil was brought upon him, and had concluded that it was partly

to punish him for his ill-treatment of Julia when living, and partly

because that now she was dead he had neglected to purchase for her any

gravestones. "And I promised," said he, "that if she was spar'd, I'd buy

as nice a gravestun as I would if 'twas Sunshine." Three weeks from that

time there stood by the mound in the little graveyard a plain, handsome

monument, on which was simply inscribed, "Julia, aged twenty."

One after another those who had been with Fanny during her illness

departed to their homes. Frank Cameron lingered several weeks in

Frankfort. Florence, too, was there with some relatives. Now, reader, if

you value our friendship, you will not accuse him of being fickle. He had

loved Fanny long and faithfully, but he knew the time was coming when he

would see her the wife of another. What wonder was it, then, if he

suffered his eye occasionally to rest admiringly upon Florence Woodburn's

happy face, or that he frequently found himself trying to trace some

resemblance between the dark hazel of Florence's eyes and the deep blue of

Fanny's?

With woman's quick perception, Florence divined Frank's thoughts, and

although she professed herself to be "terribly afraid of his Presbyterian

smile and deaconish ways," she took good care not to discourage him. But

she teased him unmercifully, and played him many sorry tricks. He bore it

all good-humoredly, and when he started for New York he had with him a

tiny casing, from which peeped the merry face of Florence, looking as if

just meditating some fresh mischief.

And what of Florence? Why, safely stowed away at the bottom of her bureau

drawer, under a promiscuous pile of gloves, ribbons, laces and

handkerchiefs, was a big daguerreotype; but as Florence guarded that

drawer most carefully, always keeping the key in her pocket, we are unable

to say anything certain upon the subject. Up to this day we don't know

exactly whose face it was that led Florence to the drawer so many times a

day, but we are safe in saying that it looked frank enough to be Frank

himself!