"From fear—yes; but it was a grand, a solemn sight,—one that none could witness without feeling their own littleness and helplessness; yet we know that no harm can reach us without the consent of Him who rules the storms."
"Yet these storms are very dangerous!" he replied.
"Visible danger does but bring the idea of death more forcibly before us, therefore it always seems to me that all should preserve their calmness in moments like these; not Christians only, but even fatalists,—those because they know that they must submit to the will of God and should make the only preparation then in their power; these, because they think it vain to cry out against fate. It is said that every one finds it difficult to part with life, but I do not believe it. I am sure it is often more difficult to be resigned to live than to be resigned to die!"
"It is!" was the emphatic answer; but as Flora turned to look at him, she saw his lip curling with the same contemptuous smile which she had seen in the morning, and, getting very red, she said—
"Now you are ridiculing me; how foolish it was of me to speak in this way, and to a man! We never know when you are talking seriously, or only drawing us out in order to laugh at us."
"This is not half so difficult for you as it is for us to know when women are true or false," he retorted quickly; but, seeing her look of wonder, he at once added—
"Pardon me. I did not mean to offend you; experience teaches us hard lessons! Still I will try to believe with Byron,
"That two, or one, are almost what they seem,
That goodness is no dream, and happiness no name."
"We have got into rather a gloomy train of conversation," said Flora. "Let us change it to something else, or to silence if you prefer it."