to have beheld your union," his lip trembled as he
spoke; "had not her illness so rapidly increased she wished to have been
present, and could she now speak her wishes, it would be to bid you be
happy--no longer to defer your union for her sake. Do not defer it, dear
Emmeline," he added, in a somewhat sadder tone, "we know not the events
of an hour, and wherefore should we delay? it will be such joy to me to
unite my friend and my sister, to pour forth on their love the blessing
of the Lord."

There was something so inexpressibly sweet yet mournful in his
concluding words, that Emmeline, unable to restrain the impulse, leaned
upon his neck and wept.

"Do not chide my weakness, Herbert," she tried to say, "these are not
tears of unmingled sadness; oh, could I but see you happy."

"And you will, my sweet sister: soon--very soon, I shall be happy,
quite--quite happy," he added, in a lower tone, as he fondly kissed her
brow.

Emmeline had not marked the tone of his concluding words, she had not
seen the expression of his features; but Ellen had, and a cold yet
indefinable thrill passed through her heart, and left a pang behind,
which she could not conquer the whole of that day. She understood it
not, for she _would_ not understand.

Urged on, however, a few days afterwards, during a walk with Herbert,
she asked him why he was so anxious the ceremony should take place
without delay.

"Because, my dear Ellen, I look forward to the performance of this
ceremony as a source of pleasure which I could not bear to resign to
another."

"To another, Herbert; what do you mean? Do you think of following my
uncle's advice, and resigning your duties for a time, for the purpose of
travel?"

"No, Ellen; those duties will not be resigned till I am called away;
they are sources of enjoyment and consolation too pure to be given up. I
do not wish my sister's wedding to be deferred, for I know not how soon
my Saviour may call me to Himself."

"May we not all urge that plea, my dear cousin?" said Ellen; "and yet in
your sermon last Sunday, you told us to do all things soberly, to give
due reflection to things of weight, particularly those in which temporal
and eternal interests were united; not to enter rashly and hastily into
engagements, not too quickly to put off the garb of mourning, and plunge
once more into the haunts of pleasure." She paused.

"I did say all this, Ellen, I own; but it has not much to do with our
present sub