manner that reminded him more strongly than ever of her arrogant mother, "father, no, you will not go! No, no, father; if you have any love for me, any respect for the memory of my dead mother, do not subject her daughter and yours to such a mortification! No, father; if he never comes, never go after him!"

"You're a fool, girl!" cried the old man, breaking away from her, "a palpable fool! You were a fool for quarreling with him and sending him away, and now you are a greater fool for persisting in the quarrel. Mortification, indeed! Who'll be the most mortified this evening, I wonder, if he never comes? What the deuce are we to say to the people who will come here this evening to see you married? Tell me that!"

Before she could say another word, a large family carriage rolled down the road, and turned and entered the lawn.

Carolyn sank back in her seat, nearly swooning with the swift hope and fear that strove almost to agony as she gazed. It looked so much like Mrs. Clifton's carriage.

It was not, however. It contained the very earliest of the wedding guests, who, coming from a distance of thirty miles, had set out early enough to arrive in time to secure a whole afternoon's rest and refreshment before dressing for the evening. This was customary with those coming from afar. Old Mr. Clifton went down the steps to receive his guests.

Carolyn arose and withdrew into the house, fortunately before she had been recognised by the visitors; for it would have been shockingly out of all etiquette for a bride to be visible on her wedding-day before the wedding-hour!

When Mr. Clifton had ushered his guests into the drawingroom, he returned to the piazza to give some directions concerning the stabling of the horses; for where so many animals were expected to be provided for, it required some extra thought and care in their bestowal. While still giving his orders, he saw his younger daughter riding slowly up to the house. Pleased to see her return in safety, in spite of his evil forebodings of the morning, and thinking besides that she could give him some news of the laggard bridegroom, he hastened to meet her and lift her from the saddle, with a joyous, “Well, my darling! well, my damask rosebud! Back in time, according to promise, eh?"

But at the sight of her father, the girl's face flushed and

paled so swiftly, her bosom rose and fell so rapidly, her whole frame was so agitated, her manner so confused, that the old man was seized with alarm, and exclaimed hurriedly, "In the name of Heaven, my dearest child, what is the matter?"

But Zuleime, incapable of reply, looked as if she would sink into the ground.

Mr. Clifton's first definite thought was that some accident or catastrophe had befallen the bridegroom.

“Good Heaven, Zuleime, what has happened? Where is Archer Clifton? Speak-has he come to any harm ?"

Much relieved that her father's suspicions had fallen out of the true track, yet still considerably shaken, Zuleime replied in a faltering voice that Captain Clifton had received orders, and had departed that morning with Lieutenant Fairfax for Winchester, where their regiment was quartered, and that Mrs. Clifton of Hardbargain desired to see Mr. Clifton as soon as possible. Without another word-totally unsuspicious that Mrs. Fairfax stood before him--the old man threw himself on horseback, and rode furiously toward Hardbargain.

Mrs. Frank Fairfax, our runaway daughter and widowed bride, stole to her own little room to weep in secret a little over her fault, but a great deal over the absence of her husband, and the danger about to befall him.

Dinner was served without Mr. Clifton, Miss Clifton, Zuleime, and the Misses Cabell. Mrs. Georgia Clifton alone entertained the newly-arrived company. This did not occasion remark. Mr. Clifton was known to be absent; and it was customary, as I said before, for the bride and her attendants to be invisible.

In the meantime, Carolyn Clifton sat in her chamber, pride, love, regret, anger, hope, fear-all good and evil passions striving in her soul, or in turn holding the mastery over it. It was drawing near the hour when she should commence her bridal toilet, if indeed any bridal array was to be assumed that evening. Amidst all her keen anxiety, she dreaded lest some one should come in and tell her it was time to dress. What should her proud heart permit her to explain to such an one? She need not have feared interruption, how

ever.

The Misses Cabell, her bridesmaids, it is true, sat together

in their chamber, very impatiently awaiting a message from the bride-very impatiently, indeed; for after her ceremonious dressing, they had, of course, their own very elaborate toilet to make. But they would not enter her dressing-room unsummoned, or at least until they should receive from some member of the family a suggestion that it was now proper to do so. And no one thought or remembered to give them the hint.

Mrs. Georgia Clifton, self-convicted of being the originator of all the great trouble that had befallen, and the greater that was about to befall the house, kept herself as much as possible aloof; and Zuleime was as yet too deeply absorbed in the contemplation of her own recent bridehood, and the sorrow of her widowhood, to think of anything else.

Meanwhile old Mr. Clifton had ridden as for life up to Hardbargain, thrown himself from his horse, flung the bridle upon his neck and let him go loose, while he himself rushed up the stairs and into the hall, and, without the ceremony of a rap, burst into the quiet presence of Mrs. Clifton as she sat sewing in her shady parlour. She arose calmly to receive him; and the very quietness of the lady threw the excited old gentleman off his guard, and out of his politeness, and into a rage.

"Well, madam!" he exclaimed, throwing his hat down with a thump into a chair, and tramping up and down the floor. Here's a pretty state of affairs!"

'Mr. Clifton, you are excited."

Yes, madam, I AM excited!" interrupted the old man"very much excited, madam-very much excited, indeed! Where is Archer Clifton? Tell me that!"

"Mr. Clifton, sit down and compose yourself!"

Compose myself! Compose myself with a prospect of three hundred people pouring into my house to-night, each one of them agape to see a wedding, and to have to tell them there will be no wedding!"

"Mr. Clifton, you can't regret this circumstance more than I do!"

"I don't regret it at all, ma'am! I rejoice at it, ma'am! I congratulate myself and my daughter, ma'am! But I'll have satisfaction, ma'am ! I'll have satisfaction, ma'am !" said the old man, wiping the perspiration from his red face.

"Satisfaction for what you rejoice at, Mr. Clifton ?" in

quired the lady, smiling at his unreasonable anger with herself.

"I'll-yes-I'll have satisfaction, ma'am !"

From whom?

From me? Do you intend to call me out as my son's representative? Do you wish to compel me to fight a duel, or to make an apology-which ?" inquired the lady coolly.

"Dem it, mem, I'll-I'll have satisfaction!" exclaimed the old man, growing shorter and shorter in his syllables. "I'll-I'll write to the colonel of the regiment! I'll-I'll make the matter known to the major-general of the army! I'll-yes, dem-me!-I'll go to Washington and tell the President! I'll have that young rascal cashiered, and broken and dismissed from the service!"

"What! all three! Why, that is passing cruel! Quite as bad as being killed, and murdered, and mortally wounded!" said the lady, smiling at his insane vehemence.

"Dem it, mem! don't take my words up!" he exclaimed, stamping up and down the floor, and then breaking out into vituperative abuse of Archer Clifton, all addressed to Mrs. Clifton, who, though becoming very much agitated, now preserved a dignified silence.

"Mr. Clifton forgets that he is a man, and that he speaks to a woman!" said a stern but low-toned voice.

And the old gentleman turned to see Kate Kavanagh, severe in youthful beauty," standing within the door; yes, in beauty, for her slight figure was drawn gracefully up-her bosom heaving, her fine head erect, her cheeks crimson, and her eyes intensely brilliant with the just indignation that moved her soul as she walked straight up to Mrs. Clifton, and said, "Dearest lady, allow me, do allow me to attend you to your own room, and be your substitute here in waiting upon Mr. Clifton."

No, Kate-no, my dear girl. I have to talk rationally to the man as soon as he comes to his senses," replied the lady. "Who is that girl?" inquired the old gentleman, not recognising Kate under the new aspect, or affecting not to do so. "Who is that girl, Mrs. Clifton?" he repeated, while the lady gazed fondly on her protégée.

"Miss Kavanagh-my son's ward, and my own adopted daughter," replied Mrs. Clifton, without withdrawing her fond gaze from the face of Kate, who was blushing under it.

"Miss Kavanagh your son's ward, and your own adopted daughter! A promising relationship all round that is, up-on-my-word-it-is!" said Mr. Clifton very deliberately. However," he added, "she has brought me to reflection, for which I thank her. And, Mrs. Clifton, I feel sorry and mortified that I have been betrayed into some violence of speech and manner; it is a family failing, you know. Pray pardon me."

"Mr. Clifton, please to sit down near me; my voice is not strong. It may be disquietude, but I find a difficulty in raising it, or in keeping up a running conversation."

66

My dear sister, I am afraid your lungs grow weak! I am, indeed! I have noticed it before; I have said the same to Georgia and to Carolyn. Indeed, my dear sister Clifton, I wish you would take care of yourself. I was a brute to throw myself into a passion in your presence; I was, indeed! I see it has overcome you! Kate Kavanagh, my dear, you were perfectly right. I did forget myself; and you were a fine girl to recall me. Give me your hand, my dear."

Blushing deeply, as was her wont when praised, Kate gave her hand, saying half-apologetically, half-appealingly, "Mrs. Clifton is not strong, sir; she should not be agitated, especially so soon after her son has left her,"

I know she is not strong! My dear sister, I wish you'd be careful of yourself! I do, indeed! You're not strong.'

دو

"After fifty, we do not grow strong as we grow old,” said the lady, pointing to a chair by her side, and indicating that, he should take it. He did so; and then Mrs. Clifton turned to Kate, and said, "Now, Catherine, my dear, I wish you to go up into my chamber and amuse yourself with a book, while I have a confidential talk with Mr. Clifton."

Kate immediately arose, curtseyed, and left the room. Mrs. Clifton turned to her brother-in-law, and said inquiringly, "You know the cause of this lovers' quarrel?"

"Of course I do, madam! Satan fly away with them both! I know all about it! It was about her up stairs!" he replied, indicating Kate Kavanagh by a crook of his thumb.

"Yes; it was about Kate. But it was very absurd!”

Catherine, knows nothing about it-does not even dream that she herself had the remotest connexion with the quarrel;