"I feel with you an invincible repugnance to throwing open our

hearts to the inspection of the unsympathizing world, at the most

sacred moment of our lives," she said, in stating her preference for

a quiet morning-wedding, a family breakfast, and instant departure

upon their bridal-trip. "If I begin to invite my friends and

neighbors, our cottage--lawn and garden included--would not contain

them, and after all were asked whom I could rememher, as many more

would be mortally offended at being forgotten."

The bridegroom gladly acquiescing, with a compliment to her womanly

delicacy, the ceremony was performed in the presence of the bride's

nearest relatives; an elegant repast was served, at which the

Dorrance plate made an imposing show, and Clara turned her back upon

the scenes and reminiscences of her past life to commence the world

anew.

Yes, she had done very well for herself--how wonderfully well she

knew better than did any one else, and at this date she had fresh

cause for self-gratulation. Through her, Herbert, her favorite

brother, was likely to form an alliance which would be a timely and

substantial stepping-stone to his aggrandizement and wealth. There

were more reasons why she should hold her head higher--why the blood

should clothe her cheek with a richer carmine, and a smile encircle

the mouth, as one swift glance took in the spacious, luxurious room,

thronged with well-dressed aristocrats, her husband the stateliest,

most honored of them all, yet her fond thrall; the splendid apparel

in which his wealth had bedecked her, the queen of the scene--more

reasons, I say, for the ineffable thrill of pleasure that coursed, a

rapid, intoxicating stream, through her veins, than grateful

affection for the author of all these goods. With a Sybarite's dread

of pain and loneliness, she seldom trusted herself to look at the

dark curtain in the background, against which her latter-day glories

shone the more dazzlingly. But to-night she felt safe upon her

throne--sat, the lady of kingdoms, sultana in the realm of her

spouse's heart and in his domain, and could stare full upon the

past--could measure, without shuddering, the height of her actual

and assumed estate above-Mr. Aylett stepped forward in haste and concern at the deadly pallor

that overspread her face--the look of horror, fear, loathing, before

which smile and brightness fled, blasted into wretchedness. The

revellers stopped in their giddy measure at the discordant jangle,

preluding a dead silence.

Mabel, chancing in the evolutions of the set to be nearest the

window, and noting the direction of the fainting woman's eyes, was

quick enough to see a shadow flit across the yellcw square of light

upon the snowy floor of the portico--a man's shape, as it appeared

to her, crouching and slinking out of view into the darkness.




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