"Let me be
A sharer in thy fierce and far delight,
A portion of the tempest and of thee!"
Among our friends there were examples of the three classes. Mrs. Penton and Helena were of the first; Mrs. Elton, Mrs. Adair, and Mary, of the second; and Flora, of the third. She left the rest, and mounted to the opening at the top, where she stood leaning against the wall, watching the storm. The lightning flashed, the thunder rolled and burst over her, and there she stood alone for some time, until she was startled by a voice close behind her, saying—
"Miss Adair is, I see, not only an apostle, but also a braver of storms; quite free from feminine weakness both in speech and action."
She looked round and saw Mr. Earnscliffe, whose words seemed to jar upon her ear; yet there was nothing in them at which she could take offence, so she answered—
"I do not think I am a coward in any sense of the word, and I would brave the storm were there any reason for doing so; but now there is none, and standing here is not braving it. Why you say 'braver of storms,' I know not. I merely came here because it is pleasanter to feel the wind blowing against one and see the vivid lightning than to sit below on a damp step in a dark passage, listening to senseless exclamations of fear."
"In which you do not share?"
"Certainly not."
"Well then, was I not right in calling you a braver of storms?"
At this moment the sky opened and sent forth a bright forked streak of light, which darted in a serpent-like form through the air, and struck straight into the ground beneath them; with it came the deafening thunder, and, as it died away rumbling in the distance, he said, looking fixedly at her—
"Are you still quite free from fear?"