We must now bring our narrative to an end, but before we drop the curtain the dramatis persona must appear to take a formal leave. Time, which does wonders, had in some degree alleviated the anguish of Lady Albert Wittingham at the death of her sister; perfect confidence having taken the place of her former unfounded jealousy, she and her husband lived on the most affectionate terms. Often did she quote the lines from the Romance Maure of "Ganzul et Zélinde" Dans un transport de jalousie, Qui la chérit plus que sa vie Se repoche sa cruauté ? Comme un enfant, l'amour l'irrite, At Lord Hovingham's desire the title became extinct. Harry Northam's marriage with Mary Clifford took place shortly after the death of Lady Hovingham to the joy of her and his family. "L'iman invoque le prophete; la peuple répondit par des vœux en faveur des nouveaux époux. Ils furent ensuite conduits, au son des cistres et des cymbales dans le palais l'Alhambra. Les parfums les plus exquis brûloient autour d'eux pendant la marche. Douze jeunes vierges vêtues de blanc précédoient la belle Moraime; douze jeunes garçons couronnées de roses s'avançoient devant Almanzor. Ces deux troupes jetoient des fleurs sur la chemin des époux, et chantoient alternativement ces paroles : Présents du ciel, bénfaits charmants, With a slight variation these lines descriptive of the marriage of the youthful Moraïme to the valiant Prince Almanzor in M. de Florian's romance, of "Gonzaloe de Cordave," would be applicable to that of Mary Clifford and Harry Northam. Instead of high bred Spanish damsels, and stalwart Spanish youths, the girls and lads of the village strewed the path to the church with roses. Though no prophet was invoked to bestow a benediction on this happy pair, many a prayer was offered up to the Almighty to shed a blessing on those who had been united in a marriage of the soul. Their married life was one of unclouded bliss. Harry had been appointed to a secretaryship in the Custom House. In a villa at Richmond, surrounded by a bevy of children, he and his wife were, to adopt a homely phrase, as happy as the day was long. Their only grief had been the untimely death of the friend of their youth, Lady Hovingham; often did they visit the grave of her and her ill-fated husband in the rural churchyard of Riversdale. In this lonely spot, God's holy acre, all resentment was banished from their minds, yet they could not refrain from lamenting the sad career of one who had wasted the talents bestowed upon him by a life (to use no harsher term) of frivolity and dissipation. Still they remembered the Divine precept, "Cast first the beam out of thine own eye, and then shalt thou see clearly to pull out the mote that is thy brother's eye." We now turn to Charley Chesterford, who had, by dint of patience, gained the hand of Kitty Boken. It would be tedious to recount his courtship, proposal, and acceptance; we will, therefore, give it in his own language in a letter addressed to his old friend Firebrace: "DEAR GENERAL,— "You are the first to whom I am about to communicate a piece of intelligence that has made me the happiest fellow alive. I have proposed to and been accepted by Miss Boken. Ever since the day that my marriage with Miss Merrington was so suddenly broken off, I have never ceased to pay attention to one whose beauty and talent attracted me when first I met her at the Priory. I felt the case was hopeless, as so many aspirants were in the field. An impecunious guardsman, an extravagant Emeralder from the county of Sligo, a superannuated peer, and a Scotch nobleman, with an estate deeply mortgaged, were ever at her side, though I must do her the justice to say she gave none the slightest encouragement. Then, again, I gleaned from Mrs. Paisley that so long as her sister lived she would never leave her. A few months ago I heard not of Miss Emily's death, but, to my utter surprise, of her marriage. It seems that at Malta they fell in with a Lieutenant of the United States |