be some brave volunteer going to
war--off; after laying awake nearly all night you suddenly drop into
utter forgetfulness of impending grief, and into some sweet dream of
pleasantness and peace. You awake with a start; the hour has come; the
hour of parting; the hour of doom.

Yes, whatever the grief may be, it is in the hour of such awakenings we
feel it most poignantly.

Thus it was with Ishmael. The instant he awoke the spear of memory
transfixed his soul. He could have cried out in his agony. It took all
his manhood to control his pain. He arose and dressed himself and
offered up his morning worship and went to the breakfast room, resolved
to pass through the day's fiery ordeal, cost what it might.

Claudia was not at breakfast. In fact, she seldom or never appeared at
the breakfast table; and this morning of all mornings it was quite
natural she should be absent. But Mrs. Middleton and Bee, Judge Merlin,
Mr. Middleton, Mr. Brudenell, Walter, and Ishmael were present. It was
in order that people should be merry on a marriage morning; but somehow
or other that order was not followed. Judge Merlin, Mrs. Middleton, and
Bee were unusually grave and silent; Mr. Brudenell was always sad;
Ishmael was no conventional talker, and therefore could not seem other
than he was--very serious. It was quite in vain that Mr. Middleton and
Walter tried to get up a little jesting and badinage. And when the
constraint of the breakfast table was over everyone felt relieved.

"Remember," said Mrs. Middleton, with her hand upon the back of her
chair, "that the carriages will be at the door at half-past ten; it is
now half-past nine."

"And that means that we have but an hour to get on our wedding
garments," said Walter. "Bee, have you got my finery ready?"

"You will find everything you require laid out on your bed, Walter."

"You are the best little sister that ever was born. I doubt whether I
shall let Ishmael, or anyone else, hate you until I get a wife of my
own; and even then I don't know but what I shall want you home to look
after her and the children!" rattled Walter, careless or unobservant of
the deep blush that mantled the maiden's face.

"Ishmael," said the judge, "I wish you to take the fourth seat in the
carriage with myself and daughter and Beatrice. Will you do so?"

Ishmael's emotions nearly choked him, but he answered:

"Certainly, if you wish."

"The four bridesmaids will fill the second carriage, and Mr. an