He had claimed, with hasty claim?
That was wrong, perhaps, but then
Such things be, and will again.
Women cannot judge for men.—E. B. Browning.
One morning near the last of February, when the young wife arose, leaving her husband still in bed heavily sleeping off his fatigue, she found that it was snowing fast, the flakes coming down fine and thick as sifted flour, and promising a deep and heavy fall. And she was glad to see it, for she said to herself:
“Surely Alick cannot leave home on such a tempestuous day as this.”
And if it had been possible for her fireside and breakfast table to have been brighter and more attractive than they always were, she would have made them so this morning for his sake. And the hope, the almost certainty of having him home all day long made her face radiant with joy and beauty.
Presently he came down heavily enough.
“What beastly weather!” he said, looking through the window at the thickly falling snow.
Her face fell a little, she scarcely knew why. But she touched the bell and ordered the breakfast served.