"Oh what a dreadful night!" said the lady, leaning forward in her
chair and listening to the wild wail of the storm, while a look of
anxiety, mingled with dread, swept across her face. "If Archie were
only at home!"
"Don't trouble yourself about Archie. He'll be here soon. You are
not yourself to-night, Fanny."
"Perhaps not; but I can't help it. I feel such an awful weight
here;" and Mrs. Voss drew her hands against her bosom.
"All nervous," said her husband. "Come! You must go to bed."
"It will be of no use, Wilmer," returned the lady. "I will be worse
in bed than sitting up. You don't know what a strange feeling has
come over me. Oh, Archie, if you were only at home! Hark! What was
that?"
The pale face grew paler as Mrs. Voss bent forward in a listening
attitude.
"Only the wind," answered her husband, betraying some impatience. "A
thousand strange sounds are on the air in a night like this. You
must compose yourself, Fanny, or the worst consequences may follow."
"It's impossible, husband. I cannot rest until I have my son safe
and sound at home again. Dear, dear boy!"
Mr. Voss urged no further. The shadow of fear which had come down
upon his wife began to creep over his heart and fill it with a vague
concern. And now a thought flashed into his mind that he would not
have uttered for the world; but from that moment peace fled, and
anxiety for his son grew into alarm as the time wore on and the boy
did not come home.
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