d Mrs.
Middleton, Mr. Brudenell and Walter the third, I do not know the
arrangements made for our other friends; but I dare say it is all right.
Oh, Ishmael, I feel as though we were arranging a procession to the
grave instead of the altar," he added, with a heavy sigh. Then
correcting himself, he said: "But this is all very morbid. So no more of
it."

And the judge wrung Ishmael's hand; and each went his separate way to
dress for the wedding.

Meanwhile the bride-elect sat alone in her luxurious dressing room.

Around her, scattered over tables, chairs, and stands, lay the splendid
paraphernalia of her bridal array--rich dresses, mantles, bonnets,
veils, magnificent shawls, sparkling jewels, blooming flowers,
intoxicating perfumes.

On the superb malachite stand beside her stood a silver tray, on which
was arranged an elegant breakfast service of Bohemian china. But the
breakfast was untasted and forgotten.

There was no one to watch her; she had sent her maid away with orders
not to return until summoned by her bell.

And now, while her coffee unheeded grew cold, she sat, leaning forward
in her easy-chair, with her hands tightly clasped together over her
knees, her tumbled black ringlets fallen down upon her dressing gown,
and her eyes flared open and fixed in a dreadful stare upon the far
distance as if spellbound by some horror there.

To have seen her thus, knowing that she was a bride-elect, you might
have judged that she was about to be forced into some loathed marriage,
from which her whole tortured nature revolted.

And you would have judged truly. She was being thus forced into such a
marriage, not by any tyrannical parent or guardian, for flesh and blood
could not have forced Claudia Merlin into any measure she had set her
will against. She was forced by the demon Pride, who had taken
possession of her soul.

And now she sat alone with her sin, dispossessed of all her better self,
face to face with her lost soul.

She was aroused by the entrance of Mrs. Middleton--Mrs. Middleton in
full carriage-dress--robe and mantle of mauve-colored moire-antique, a
white lace bonnet with mauve-colored flowers, and white kid gloves
finished at the wrists with mauve ribbon quillings.

"Why, Claudia, is it possible? Not commenced dressing yet, and everybody
else ready, and the clock on the stroke of ten! What have you been
thinking of, child?"

Claudia started like one suddenly aroused from sleep, threw her ha