not
tell; for if really there, it vanished instantly.

"Did Harold come?" she asked of Richard when he came to salute the bride
and groom.

"I think not; I haven't seen him, I can't think what's come over the lad
to be so neglectful of his privileges."

Harry Duncan was there, too, hanging upon the smiles of merry, saucy,
blue-eyed May Allison; while her brother Richard seemed equally enamored
with the brunette beauty and sprightliness of Lottie King.

Stiffness and constraint found no place among the guests, after the event
of the evening was over.

In the great dining-room a sumptuous banquet was laid; and thither, after
a time, guests and entertainers repaired.

The table sparkled with cut-glass, rare and costly china, and solid silver
and gold plate. Every delicacy from far and near was to be found upon it;
nothing wanting that the most fastidious could desire, or the most lavish
expenditure furnish. Lovely, fragrant flowers were there also in the
utmost profusion, decorating the board, festooning the windows and
doorways, in bouquets upon the mantels and antique stands, scattered here
and there through the apartment, filling the air with their perfume; while
a distant and unseen band discoursed sweetest music in soft, delicious
strains.

The weather was warmer far than at that season in our northern clime, the
outside air balmy and delightful, and through the wide-open doors and
windows glimpses might be caught of the beautiful grounds, lighted here
and there by a star-like lamp shining out among the foliage. Silent and
deserted they had been all the earlier part of the evening, but now group
after group, as they left the bountiful board, wandered into their green
alleys and gay parterres; low, musical tones, light laughter, and merry
jests floating out upon the quiet night air and waking the echoes of the
hills.

But the bride retired to her own apartments, where white satin, veil, and
orange blossoms, were quickly exchanged for an elegant traveling dress,
scarcely less becoming to her rare beauty.

She reappeared in the library, which had not been thrown open to the
guests, but where the relations and bridesmaids were gathered for the
final good-bye.

Mr. Dinsmore's family carriage, roomy, easy-rolling, and softly cushioned,
stood at the door upon the drive, its spirited gray horses pawing the
ground with impatience to be gone. It would carry the bride and groom--and
a less pretentious vehicle their