Tempest and Sunshine

by Mary Jane Holmes

The morning which succeeded the events narrated in the last chapter was clear and bright. Nature, beautiful as ever, looked as if laughing defiance at the fearful storm which so lately had swept over the earth. Beautifully over hill and valley fell the sun's red rays, but when they penetrated the dwelling of Mr. Middleton, they shone on the anxious, careworn faces of those who had been sleepless during the dark hours of that dreadful night. Even the merry-hearted Florence seemed sad and spiritless as she hurried from room to room, urging Ashton to accelerate their departure. By eight o'clock the last guest was gone. Around the old stone house a gloomy silence settled, broken only by the heavy tramp of Uncle Joshua, whose cowhides came down with a vengeance, as up and down the yard he strode, talking to Dr. Lacey, who walked by his side.

[pg 216]"Now," said he, "if this isn't a little the all-firedest muss a feller ever got into, Josh ain't no judge. Of course the papers have nothing to do but flout it all over the country. For myself I don't care a copper, but 'twill be mighty mortifyin' to you, though I think you desarve some mortifyin', for how in thunder a chap of your sense ever come to be made such a precious fool of is more'n I can tell."

"If you knew all the arts she employed, you would not wonder quite so much," said Dr. Lacey. And Mr. Middleton answered, "Know all her arts? Don't I know 'em? Don't I know that she rummaged heaven and arth for ways and means?"

"I hardly think she went to the former place for assistance," said Dr. Lacey; and Mr. Middleton continued, "You are right, but I'll be bound Satan hadn't any tricks but what he told her of. 'Pears like she's been possessed ever since she first opened her big black eyes in the very room where the row was last night. Oh, how happy I was," he continued, "when I took her in my arms a little baby, and knew she was mine and Nancy's, and thought what a comfort she'd be to me; but George, I tell you what," said he, as he placed one hand on Dr. Lacey's arm and passed the other through the grizzled locks which lay around his brow, "I tell you what, these gray hairs come a heap too soon, and all for her, for her. Oh, Julia, Julia, what trouble have you not caused me!" and in his hands Uncle Joshua buried his face, while through his large red fingers the tears trickled slowly, and fell upon the ground. For a moment he wept, and then wiping his eyes, said, "But wasn't it lucky that long-legged, salmon-colored Joe got here as he did! Another minute and you'd have been clinched, but now the tempest has blowed over, and for the rest of your life you'll have nothing but sunshine."

The overseer now approached to ask orders concerning a piece of work in which the negroes were employed. Mr. Middleton accompanied him to the field, while Dr. Lacey returned to the house in quest of Fanny. He was told that she was with Julia, and with an involuntary shudder, he approached the chamber which contained one who had well nigh been his wife! His wife! The very idea filled him with loathing when associated with her, and still he pitied the suffering girl, who, divested of her bridal attire, now lay moaning in pain. With coming day had come a burning fever, which increased so rapidly that Dr. Gordon shook his head when questioned as to the result.

The change of affairs had also wrought a change in Fanny, [pg 217] who seemed and really was better than she had been for many days. Gladly would she have stayed with Dr. Lacey, but she felt that duty called her to Julia's bedside. With unwearying devotion she hung over the pillow of her sister, who seemed more quiet when she knew Fanny was near. Once she looked wistfully in her face, and appeared as if anxious to speak, but Fanny gently laid her hand on her lips, saying, "No, no, Julia; you must not."

She did, however, and the word "forgive" met Fanny's ear. Had Fanny been less of a Christian, forgiveness might have been hard, but now she answered sincerely, truthfully, "As I hope for pardon in heaven, so do I forgive you for the great wrong you have done me."

At the mention of the word "heaven," Julia shuddered, and after a time repeated, "Heaven! You will find it, but I—never—never!"

Earnestly then did Fanny speak of a Savior's love, which receives all, pardons all, who come to him. Julia shook her head despairingly, and as the conversation seemed to annoy her, Fanny ceased talking, while a voice behind her said, "Teach me, too, the way of life, for I fear I have never walked in it."

It was Dr. Lacey, who, unobserved by either of the girls, had entered and been a listener to what Fanny said. As Julia heard the sound of voices she turned toward him a look so imploring, so full of contrition and entreaty, that he was moved, and approaching the bedside, took the vacant seat near Fanny. But he did not, like her, breathe words of forgiveness, for his heart was full of bitterness toward her. As he sat there, gazing coldly, sternly at her, she again spoke, "If you can, if you will only forgive me."