Tempest and Sunshine

The autumn months were gone; December had come and "Christmas was coming."

The negroes far and near had counted the days which must pass before their

expected holidays. In Uncle Joshua's kitchen there was much talking and

laughing, fixing and fussing, and some crying. Had you asked the cause of

the crying, you would have been told that Miss Fanny was to be married

Christmas Eve, and the week following she would leave them and start for

New Orleans.

Preparations commenced on a large scale; for Uncle Joshua, a little proud,

it may be, of his handsome house, had determined on a large party. The old

gentleman even went so far as to order for himself a new suit of

broadcloth, saying by way of apology that, "though the jeens coat and

bagging pants did well enough for Josh, they wouldn't answer nohow for the

father of Mrs. Dr. George Lacey."

A week before the wedding Florence, who loved dearly to be in a bustle,

came laden with bandboxes and carpet bags. Hourly through the house rang

her merry laugh, as she flitted hither and thither, actually doing nothing

in her zeal to do everything. She had consented to be bridesmaid on

condition that she should choose her own groomsman, who she said should be

"Uncle Billy," as she always called Mr. William Middleton, "unless

Providence sent her some one she liked better." Whether it were owing to

Providence or to an invitation which went from Florence to New York we are

unable to say, but two days before the 24th Uncle Joshua surprised

Florence and Fanny by opening the door of the room where they were

sitting, and saying, "Ho, my boy, here they be--come on."

The girls started up, and in a moment Frank stood between them, with an

arm thrown around each. "Why, Mr. Cameron," said Florence, "what did you

come for, and who knew you were coming?"

"I came to see you, and you knew I was coming," answered Frank.

"Well, then," returned Florence, "if you came to see me, do look at me,

and not keep your eyes fixed so continually on Fanny. In a few days you

will be breaking the commandment which says: 'Thou shalt not covet thy

neighbor's wife.'"

"Possibly I might had I never seen you," answered Frank.

At a late hour that night Florence moved with soft footsteps about her

sleeping room, fearing lest she should awaken Fanny. Her precautions were

useless, for Fanny was awake; looking at Florence, she said, "Oh, Flory,

you naughty girl, what makes you blush so dreadfully?"