e sang, every noise at the parlor door caused us to
turn with the apprehension of we hardly knew what. A dozen times Mr.
Enders consulted his watch, and telegraphed his fears to me, though I
persisted in thinking it only the fun that had been intended.

[14] A page is here torn from the Diary. It evidently related the
beginning of an incident of which my sister and I have often
heard our mother tell: how, after the Jackson tableaux, our aunt
Miriam laughingly staked herself in a game of cards with Will
Carter--and lost. The sequel follows, the scene at the house of
his uncle, General Carter, beginning in the middle of a
sentence.--W. D.

Half-past six came, and with it, Mrs. Worley. Now, she knew better. For
Dr. Dortch had come to see me, and was guiding me in my game of euchre
in which I was not even as wise as my partner, Mr. Enders, when her
note came. Instantly we put down our cards, while Miriam begged him to
write and tell her the true story. He wrote and we all read it. Not
only that, but Miriam added a postscript which I think was this, word
for word: "Mrs. Worley, it is only a bet at cards, intended as the
merest joke. There is not a word of truth in it, and I will consider it
the greatest favor if you will contradict the report whenever you may
hear it!" Explicit enough, one would think; but still she came, and
sent word into the parlor that one of the ladies present when Will made
the announcement had sent her contribution to the evening's fun. It
turned out to be a complete bridal suit, worn by the lady a year ago!
That was too serious a jest. Miriam went into the other room to speak
to Mrs. Worley, who, cold as an icicle, refused to receive or make
explanation, beyond "I won't kiss you; this is too cruel." There was
nothing to do; she returned laughing, but certainly feeling herself the
injured one, and so she was.

In fifteen minutes, another stir. I held my breath with expectation.
Lydia introduced--Mr. G----. Ten miles he had ridden through mud and
water that freezing evening, at Will Carter's request, to perform the
ceremony between him and Miriam. Lydia laughed until she could hardly
introduce him. He, hat in hand, bowed around the convulsed circle with
a countenance shining with the most sublimely vacant expression. O that
man's idiotic face, and solemn, portentous look, brought a writhe even
to my trembling lips! Mr. Enders would have given one an excellent