the carriage, which stood waiting near by.

"Oh, Bernard!" cried Della, laying her trembling hand upon his arm, as
he sat beside her in the carriage, with Minny, and they were being
whirled through the almost deserted streets, "no hand can ever come
between us again. I am yours at last."

"Nothing shall ever part us more," returned Bernard, drawing her fondly
towards him. "You have given up much for me, but the aim of my life
shall be to make you happy."

"I have lost nothing, Bernard, compared to the love I have gained. Only
never let that swerve or falter, and I shall be the happiest wife that
ever God looked down upon and blessed."

The carriage stopped at the door of the cathedral, and the party
entered the church, where a priest was already in waiting. Blanche and
Guly made their appearance from a side aisle, and Wilkins introduced
them to Della, telling her he had engaged them, as dear friends of his,
to officiate in the approaching ceremony. Della expressed her pleasure,
and half-crying, half-smiling, kissed Blanche affectionately, telling
her she hoped, since she was one of Wilkins' friends, that she would
henceforth be a sister to her, and that they would all be very happy.
Then Wilkins drew that fluttering hand in his, and led Della to the
altar. Guly and Blanche stepped to their places, and the ceremony began.

Leaning against a pillar, a little in the shadow, behind the
marriage-group, stood Minny, the quadroon; with face blanched to an
almost unearthly pallor, she listened to the vows which fell from
Bernard's lips. With chilled heart, again came back the memory of the
hour when those same lips, in this very spot, had thus sworn to love and
cherish her. But what of this? her heart had been _legally_ broken, and
she had no right to complain!

The ceremony ended, Bernard and his bride, and Minny, started for the
lake shore, where, though late in the season, they intended to remain
awhile, previous to returning to take up their residence again in the
city. They set Blanche down at her own door, and Guly, who was waiting
for the adieus to be over, stepped forward, and pressing Wilkins' hand,
exclaimed:--

"Matters have indeed explained themselves, my friend; I little thought
of this. May you be as happy as you deserve to be!"

"Thank you, Guly; I shall, no doubt, be much happier than I deserve to
be." Then bending forward, he added, in a lower tone, "If the old
gentleman is stormy to-morrow, at the los