unate
woman in the world. He is mine at last--he, the most elegant, the most
brilliant man in New-York, and with such a splendid fortune. I was so
happy, so excited, that I could not sleep, and therefore I awoke you to
talk."

"I am glad you did, for I am almost as much pleased as you can be--such
joy is better than sleep;--but all the bells in the city seem to be
ringing--did you see any thing of the fire?"

"Oh yes! the whole sky at the southeast is glowing from the flames--the
largest fire, they say, that has ever been known in the city--but it is
far enough from us--down in Wall-street--and who can think of fires with
such joy before them? Only think, Mary, with Philip's fortune and
Philip's taste, what an establishment I shall have."

"And what a mother in dear, good Mrs. Oswald!"

"Yes--but I hope she will not wish to live with us--mother-in-laws, you
know, always want to manage every thing in their sons' houses."

Thus the cousins sat talking till the fire-bells ceased their monotonous
and ominous clang, and the late dawn of a winter morning reddened the
eastern sky. It was half-past nine o'clock when they met again at their
breakfast; yet late as it was, Mr. Danby, usually a very early riser,
was not quite ready for it. He had spent most of the night at the scene
of the fire, and had with great difficulty and labor saved his valuable
stock of French goods from the destroyer. When he joined his daughter
and niece, his mind was still under the influence of last night's
excitement, and he could talk of nothing but the fire.

"Rather expensive fireworks, I am afraid," said Caroline flippantly, as
her father described the lurid grandeur of the scene.

"Do not speak lightly, my daughter, of that which must reduce many from
affluence to beggary. Millions of property were lost last night. The
16th of December, 1835, will long be remembered in the annals of
New-York, I fear."

"It will long be remembered in my annals," whispered Caroline to her
cousin, with a bright smile, despite her father's chiding.

"Not at home to any but Mr. Philip Oswald," had been Caroline Danby's
order to the servant this morning; and thus when she was told, at twelve
o'clock, that that gentleman awaited her in the drawing-room, she had
heard nothing more of the fire than her father and the morning paper had
communicated. As she entered, Philip arose to greet her, but though he
strove to smile as his eyes met hers, the effort was vain;