He had taken so much pains with a long piece of poetry for
her sake: was not that better than agreement in a set of
propositions? Scores of persons might think as she thought about the
ode, who would not spend a moment in doing anything to gratify her.
It was delightful also to reflect that Frank imagined she would
sympathise with anything written in that temper. She recalled what
she herself had said when somebody gave Clara a copy in 'Parian' of a
Greek statue, a thing coarse in outline and vulgar. Clara was about
to put it in a cupboard in the attic, but Madge had pleaded so
pathetically that the donor had in a measure divined what her sister
loved, and had done her best, although she had made a mistake, that
finally the statue was placed on the bedroom mantelpiece. Madge's
heart overflowed, and Frank had never attracted her so powerfully as
at that moment. She took his hand softly in hers.
'Frank,' she murmured, as she bent her head towards him, 'it is
really a lovely poem.'
Suddenly there was a flash of forked lightning at some distance,
followed in a few seconds by a roll of thunder increasing in
intensity until the last reverberation seemed to shake the ground.
They took refuge in a little barn and sat down. Madge, who was timid
and excited in a thunderstorm, closed her eyes to shield herself from
the glare.
The tumult in the heavens lasted for nearly two hours and, when it
was over, Madge and Frank walked homewards without speaking a word
for a good part of the way.
Pages:
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72