estranged me, and I temporarily forbade her
to enter my presence. Poor, dear, devoted Elsie! When my heart
relented, and I sought her to assure her of my forgiveness, tears
and groans greeted me, and I found her sitting at the foot of her bed,
with her face hidden in her apron."

Stretching her arms towards the grave, Mrs. Gerome paused; her lips
quivered, and two tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Ah! dear old heart! Brave, true, tender soul! How different my lot
would have been had I heeded her prayers and counsel! Not until I lie
down yonder, and mingle my dust with hers, can I, even for an instant,
forget her faithful, sleepless care and love. I believe she is the
only human being who was ever tenderly and truly attached to me, and
God knows I learned before I lost her how much her affection was
worth."

The cold, ringing voice grew tremulous, wavering, and some moments
passed before Mrs. Gerome continued,--

"Mr. Carlyle preferred a private wedding, but I insisted upon a
ceremony at the church where Mr. Wright officiated, and immediately
telegraphed to Edith, requesting her presence as bridesmaid, and
offering to provide her outfit and defray all expenses, if she would
accompany us to Europe. My betrothed bit his lip, and objected; but on
this point, at least, I was firm, and assured him I would not be
married unless Edith could be with me. She wrote, declining my
invitation to Europe, but came to New York, the day of my wedding.
When I look back at what followed, I have a vague, confused feeling,
similar to that which results from taking opium. Mr. Carlyle had
positively interdicted my taking Elsie to Europe, assuring me that his
wife should not be in leading-strings to a spoiled and presumptuous
nurse, and promising me that, when we returned to America, she might
occupy the position of housekeeper in our establishment. Absorbed by
my own supreme happiness, I scarcely saw Edith until we were dressed
for the ceremony, and when she came and leaned against the table where
the bridal presents were arranged, I noticed that she was pale and
much agitated, but ascribed her emotion to grief at my approaching
departure. Several of my schoolmates officiated as bridesmaids, and a
large party assembled at the church to witness the marriage. Mr.
Carlyle was a great favorite in society, and his friends were invited
to the wedding breakfast at the parsonage. It was on the bright
morning of my sixteenth birthday, when I stood