A calm, beautiful morning succeeded a night of terrors. O, is there in all the world a grander sight than sunrise on Mount Washington?
The first faint rays breaking gradually through clouds of mist, and dimly revealing the outlines of surrounding peaks; then long, bright streams, piercing the gloomy depths of the valleys, chasing gigantic shadows, like spirits of light contending with the legions of darkness; and, at length, the whole immense sea of mountains brought into majestic view, with their unnumbered abysmal valleys covered with forests of every intermingled variety and shade of green.
Florence Howard separated herself from the remaining portion of the party, and stood alone on the topmost summit, leaning on the moss-grown side of a granite boulder, gazing in rapt awe and wonder on the awful sublimity that opened rapidly to her view. Thin, fringy clouds of mist, white and silvery in the growing light, were flying over the dark sides of the mountains, resting a moment in the valleys, and then disappearing, as a dusky form approached the spot where Florence stood.
"We meet again, Miss Howard;" said a voice at her side, low, and deep with emotion.
"And above the clouds, Edgar;" answered she, turning toward him, her face radiant as an angel's in the intensity of the emotions which overawed her soul. "Could we have met so well in any other place as here, with earth and its turmoils all below, and only the free blue dome of heaven above our head?"
"Are you glad to have met me here?" asked he, gazing sadly on her expressive features.
"Can you ask?" said she. "And this is the only spot where I could have rejoiced to meet you now, for here you will be Edgar to me, and may I not be Florence to you?" she added, lifting her clear, liquid eyes with beseeching earnestness to his face.
He could not withstand this gentle appeal, this touching expression. Softly his arm stole round her slender waist. She placed her little hand lightly on his shoulder, and laid her head with confiding tenderness on his bosom.
O, what was Mount Washington in his glory then? What the whole boundless prospect that spread its sublime immensity before them? Their eyes looked only in each other's hearts, and they were warm—O, how warm with love, and hope, and happiness! Mount Washington was cold. They felt a pity for its great, insensate piles of granite, that loomed up there to heaven, cold, bare and stony, void of power to feel and sympathize with human emotions. Wandering to a sheltered nook among the rocks they sat down together.
An hour passed by, during which each member of the little party was intently occupied with his own delighted observations, and then Major Howard recollected the absence of his daughter, who had left his side, saying she wished to contemplate the sublime spectacle apart from the rest of the company. Gazing over the cragged summit, he beheld her approaching with a gentleman at her side.