s made and consummated, it
should be as fixed a fact as the laws of nature. And they who suffer
under its stringency should suffer as those who endure for the public
good. "He that sweareth to his own hurt, and changeth not, he shall
enter into the tabernacle of the Lord."

CHAPTER XXVIII.

_AFTER THE STORM_.

The painful and unfortunate crises of life often arise and darken
like a thunder-storm, and seem for the moment perfectly terrific and
overwhelming; but wait a little, and the cloud sweeps by, and the
earth, which seemed about to be torn to pieces and destroyed, comes
out as good as new. Not a bird is dead; not a flower killed: and the
sun shines just as he did before. So it was with John's financial
trouble. When it came to be investigated and looked into, it proved
much less terrible than had been feared. It was not utter ruin. The
high character which John bore for honor and probity, the general
respect which was felt for him by all to whom he stood indebted, led
to an arrangement by which the whole business was put into his hands,
and time given him to work it through. His brother-in-law came to his
aid, advancing money, and entering into the business with him. Our
friend Harry Endicott was only too happy to prove his devotion to Rose
by offers of financial assistance.

In short, there seemed every reason to hope that, after a period of
somewhat close sailing, the property might be brought into clear water
again, and go on even better than before.

To say the truth, too, John was really relieved by that terrible burst
of confidence in his sister. It is a curious fact, that giving full
expression to bitterness of feeling or indignation against one we
love seems to be such a relief, that it always brings a revulsion of
kindliness. John never loved his sister so much as when he heard her
plead his wife's cause with him; for, though in some bitter, impatient
hour a man may feel, which John did, as if he would be glad to sunder
all ties, and tear himself away from an uncongenial wife, yet a good
man never can forget the woman that once he loved, and who is the
mother of his children. Those sweet, sacred visions and illusions of
first love will return again and again, even after disenchantment; and
the better and the purer the man is, the more sacred is the appeal to
him of woman's weakness. Because he is strong, and she is weak, he
feels that it would be unmanly to desert her; and, if there ever was