But the demon of mischief seemed to possess the young kitten. It walked straight up to him, laid its paw on his cold nose, and then scratched terribly. The dog in turn, raised one of his huge paws, and gave it a cuff that rolled it to the middle of the floor again. The kitten rose demurely and had recourse to the ball of yarn once more. Hero seeing this, dropped his head with a threatening look, and again slept.
The old clock ticked loudly upon the mantel, and the wind roared down the chimney, and moaned around the house. Soon several drops of rain rattled against the window, a terrific crash of thunder burst overhead, and the storm came in all its fury.
It lasted but a short time when a lull occurred. Just at this moment, the clock struck the hour of nine. Abbot knocked the ashes from his pipe, took down the old, wooden-covered Bible, and commenced reading a chapter. The mother laid aside her knitting, folded her hands upon her lap, and Mansfield and Marian paid a respectful attention.
The chapter finished, all sank devoutly upon their knees, and the earnest monotone of Abbot ascended to the Protector of all. The desolate moaning of the tempest, added solemnity to the scene, and gave a beautiful appropriateness to the petition that was offered.
As the parents arose, they bade Russel good night and retired. Our hero left alone with Marian, glided to her side, took her hand within his own and pulled her head over upon his bosom.
"What are you thinking of, Marian?"
"I was wondering at what father said."
"What? about McGable?"
"Yes."
"Are you alarmed?"