kles and threads and feathers and
flowers, touching it with that sort of timid apprehension that
bachelors use with a baby. He stood before the glass over the
mantelpiece. First he put it across his head with one side in front,
and then with the other. Then he put it lengthways of his head, and
tried the effect of tying one of the two couples of strings under each
of his ears. Then he put it on, the other side up; so that it swam on
his head like a boat, with a high mounted bow and stern. More than
once he did all this, with obvious care and thoughtfulness.

Then he came slowly back, and resumed his seat. It was growing very
dark, though they had not noticed it; for the thunder-shower had been
hurrying on, and already its advanced guard of wind, heavy laden with
the smell of the rain, could be heard, and a few large drops splashed
on the window.

The beautiful wife of the doctor laughed merrily to watch the growing
discomposure of the visitor, who returned the bonnet, with
undiminished courtesy, but with obvious constraint of manner.

He looked down; he drummed on the table; he looked up; and both the
doctor and the doctor's wife were startled at the intense sudden anger
in the dark, handsome face. Then he sprang up, and went to the window.
He looked out a moment, and then said--

"Upon my word, that is going to be a very sharp squall! The clouds are
_very_ heavy. If I'm any judge, something will be struck. I can feel
the electricity in the air."

While he still spoke, the first thunder-bolt crashed overhead. It was
one of those close, sudden, overpoweringly awful explosions from
clouds very heavy and very near, where the lightning and the thunder
leap together out of the very air close about you, even as if you were
in them. It was an unendurable burst of sound, and of the intense
white sheety light of very near lightning. Dreadfully frightened, the
poor little lady clung close to her husband. He, poor man, if possible
yet more frightened, exhausted as he was by what he had been enduring,
fainted dead away. Don't blame him: a cast-iron bull-dog might have
fainted.

Mrs. Hicok, thinking that her husband was struck dead by the
lightning, screamed terribly. Then she touched him; and, seeing what
was really the matter, administered cold water from the pitcher on the
table. Shortly he revived.

"Where is he?" he said.

"I don't know, love. I thought you were dead. He must have gone away.
Did it strike the house?"