"Supposing I tell you a story, to enliven you?" said Uncle Ned.
"Oh! yes, father, please tell us a story," exclaimed the children, simultaneously.
Little Ann was perched upon his knee as if by magic, and even Elizabeth moved her chair, as if excited to some degree of interest. George still held his book in his hand, but his bright eyes, sparkling with unusual animation, were riveted upon his uncle's face.
"I am going to tell you a story about a rainy evening," said Uncle Ned.
"Oh! that will be so pretty!" cried Ann, clapping her hands; but Elizabeth's countenance fell below zero. It was an ominous annunciation.
"Yes," continued Uncle Ned, "a rainy evening. But though clouds darker than those which now mantle the sky were lowering abroad, and the rain fell heavier and faster, the rainbow of my life was drawn most beautifully on those dark clouds, and its fair colours still shine most lovely on the sight. It is no longer, however, the bow of promise, but the realization of my fondest dreams."
George saw his uncle cast an expressive glance towards the handsome matron in the opposite corner, whose colour perceptibly heightened, and he could not forbear exclaiming—
"Ah! Aunt Mary is blushing. I understand uncle's metaphor. She is his rainbow, and he thinks life one long rainy day."
"Not exactly so. I mean your last conclusion. But don't interrupt me, my boy, and you shall hear a lesson, which, young as you are, I trust you will never forget. When I was a young man I was thought quite handsome—"
"Pa is as pretty as he can be, now," interrupted little Ann, passing her hand fondly over his manly cheek.