A gust of cold wind swept through the hall and put out the lamp, at which the children and Mary Leighton renewed their cries of fright.
The respite in the tempest was but temporary; before the lamp was relit and order restored, the storm had burst again upon us.

This was, if anything, fiercer, but shorter lived.

After fifteen or twenty minutes' rage, it subsided almost utterly, and we could hear it taking itself off across the heavens.

I suppose the whole storm, from its beginning to its end, had not occupied more than three quarters of an hour, but it had seemed much longer.
We were very glad to open the door and let the cool, damp air into the hall.

The children were taken up-stairs, consoled with the promise that word should be sent to them when their uncles should return.