"Yes, truly,--and a magnum, if my closet is not empty. The king will
drink to Hamlet."

* * * * *

Little more remains to be told. After the long period of probation, it
was not deemed necessary that the nuptials should be deferred beyond
the time necessary to make due preparation. In a month the wedding took
place at Mr. Monroe's house, Mr. Easelmann giving away the bride. I do
not say that the bachelor felt no twinges when he saw among the guests
the lovely Mrs. Sandford in her becoming white robes; in fact, he
"thought seriously," as all such people do while there remains even the
recollection of youth--but his habits were too fixed. He saw and sighed,
and that was all. However, he is on the right side of----forty, we will
call it, and there is hope for him. We may find him in some adventure
yet; if so, the reader shall assuredly know it.

In the spring, Greenleaf with his wife went abroad and took up their
residence in Rome.

"What pictures has he painted?" did you ask?

Really, Madam, a great many; but I have not the least idea of letting
you come at the name of my hero in this way. You have seen them both
here and in New York, and you thought them the productions of a rising
man,--as they are.

* * * * *

Our friend Monroe is now a partner in the house of Lindsay & Co. He
makes frequent visits to the villa at Brookline, and is always welcome.
Mr. Lindsay considers him a most sensible and worthy young man, and his
daughter Clara has implicit confidence in his judgment of literature as
well as in his taste for pictures. One fine day last summer, Mrs. Monroe
was prevailed upon, after some weeks of solicitation, to get into a
carriage and take a drive with her son. "She's a nice girl," said the
mother, fervently, on their return; "and if you _must_ marry anybody, I
don't think you can do better." Walter's smile showed that he thought
so too, although the alternative was hardly so painful as she seemed to
consider it,--from which we infer that his relations with the senior
partner of the house have become, or will be, still more intimate.

Mrs. Sandford has left Boston and gone to live with her relatives some
fifty miles distant;--the place Mr. Easelmann can tell, as he has had
occasion to send her a few letters.

The personages of our drama are all dismissed; the curtain begins to
fall; but a voice is heard, "What became of the Bulls and Bears?