Cruel As The Grave

"Are our rooms ready?" shortly demanded Mr. Berners.

"Just this moment ready, sir," answered the man, with a bow.

"Gather up these articles, then, and show us to our rooms," said Mr.

Berners, pointing to a collection of outer garments and travelling bags

that occupied a centre-table.

With another bow the man loaded himself with the personal effects of the

guests and led the way up-stairs.

Mr. Berners, drawing his wife's arm through his own, followed the waiter

to a cheerful little private parlor, where the bright red carpet on the

floor, the bright red curtains at the windows, the bright red covers of

the chairs and sofas, the glowing coal fire in the grate, and above all

the neatly spread tea table, with its snowy damask table-cloth, and its

service of pure French china, invited the hungry and weary travellers to

refreshment and repose.

Through a pair of partly drawn sliding doors a vista was opened to a

clean and quiet chamber, furnished to match the parlor, with the same

bright-red carpet, window curtains, and chair covers, but also with a

white-draperied tent-bedstead, with bed-pillows and coverings white and

soft as swan's down. In the glow of the coal fire in the inner room sat

and waited a pretty mulatto girl, Delia, or Dilly, the dressing maid of

Mrs. Berners.

On seeing her mistress enter the parlor, Dilly quickly arose and met

her, and handed a chair and relieved the waiter of his burden of

portable personal property, which she hastened to carry into the chamber

to put away.

"Bring in the tea immediately and send my own man Hannibal here to

attend us," said the guest to the waiter, who promptly left the room to

execute the orders.

"Come, my darling! Take this easy-chair in the corner and make yourself

comfortable! Here is a scene to inspire the saddest heart with

cheerfulness," said the bridegroom cordially, as he drew forward the

easy arm-chair and led his bride to it.

She sank into the soft seat and smiled her satisfaction.

In a few moments the waiters of the inn entered and arranged a delicious

little repast upon the table and then withdrew, leaving Hannibal, the

faithful servant of the bridegroom, to attend his master and mistress at

their tea.

The young pair sat down to the table. And in that quiet and cheerful

scene of enjoyment, the young bride recovered her spirits. The transient

shadow that had for a moment darkened the splendor of her joy, even as a

passing cloud for an instant obscures the glory of the sun, had

vanished, leaving her all smiles and gayety.