There came a sharp, quick gleam of lightning, followed by a crash that jarred the house.

But Irene did not start--we may question whether she even saw the one or heard the other, except as something remote.
"Irene!" She did not stir.
The young man leaned closer, and said, in a tender voice-- "Irene--darling--" Her hand moved in his--just moved--but did not return the pressure of his own.
"Irene." And now his arm stole around her.

She yielded, and, turning, laid her head upon his shoulder.
There had been a little storm in the maiden's heart, consequent upon the slight restraint ventured on by her lover when she drew back from the window; and it was only now subsiding.
"I did not mean to offend you," said the young man, penitently.
"Who said that I was offended ?" She looked up, with a smile that only half obliterated the shadow.

"I was frightened, Hartley.

It is a fearful storm!" And she glanced toward the window.
The lover accepted this affirmation, though he knew better in his heart.