Tempest and Sunshine

"Can I do anything for you?" said the captain, who at that moment passed

her.

"Nothing, except to land me in Frankfort as soon as possible," said the

young lady, whom the reader will readily suppose was Kate Wilmot.

"Are you in a great hurry?" asked the captain.

"Yes, sir," returned Kate. "My brother is dangerously sick and I am

anxious to get to him."

"Where does your brother live?" asked the captain.

"He boards with Mrs. Williams, on Elm street," answered Kate.

"Then," said the captain, "if you will show me your baggage, I will see

that it is sent there, for you probably will not wish to waste time in

looking after it when we land."

Kate thanked him for his kindness; and when they reached the shore the

kind-hearted man called one of his boatmen and ordered him to show Miss

Wilmot the way to Mrs. Williams' residence. As Kate approached the house

she noticed the air of desertion about it, and her heart sank for fear her

brother might be dead. Running hastily up the steps, she rang the bell,

which was answered by a female domestic, who was too old and too infirm to

attend the funeral. Kate accosted her by saying, "Does Mr. Wilmot live

here?"

The old lady replied by lifting up her hand and exclaiming, while the

tears coursed their way down her cheeks, "Lord bless me if it isn't young

marster's sister."

"Yes, yes," said Kate impatiently, "I am his sister. But tell me, is he

dead? Am I too late?"

The woman replied, "Not too late to see him, if you're right spry. They've

carried him to the church."

"Where? What church is it?" asked Kate wildly.

"Right yender; that ar brick house with the tall steeple."

Kate waited for no more, but darted off in the direction of the church.

Meanwhile the services were ended, and the friends of the deceased were

taking their last leave of him. Mrs. Middleton and Mr. Miller stood on one

side of the coffin, while Dr. Lacey and Fanny were on the other. Fanny

gazed long and earnestly upon the face of her teacher, as if she would

stamp his likeness with daguerrean accuracy upon her heart.

She was turning sadly away, when a noise at the door caused all eyes to be

directed that way. A pale, lovely face was seen looking anxiously in, and

then a slight female figure advanced through the crowd, which gave way for

her to pass. She passed up the aisle till she reached the coffin, then

bursting into a flood of tears, she wrung her hands, exclaiming, "My

brother, oh my brother--are you indeed dead?" She then imprinted kiss after

kiss upon the cold lips of him who never before disregarded her caresses;

and as the full force of her loss came over her, she uttered a piercing

cry of anguish, and fell fainting into the arms of Mr. Miller, who

recognized in her beautiful features the original of the picture which Mr.

Wilmot had shown him a few months before.