?"

Nothing could have been more gentle, more replete with tenderness,
ardent but full of reproach, than the tone in which these words were
uttered. Florence lifted her eyes to his, tears came into them, and
then she smiled brightly once more.

"Oh! let us have done with this; I am nervous, agitated, unreasonable
I suppose; of course you have done right," she said, "but at first the
thoughts of this concealment terrified me."

"Hark! I hear wheels. It must be the clergyman and Byrne," said
Jameson, listening.

"And is a stranger coming," inquired Florence, "any one but the
clergyman? I was not prepared for that!"

"But we must have a witness. He is my friend, and one that can be
trusted. You need have no fear of Byrne."

"They are here!" said Florence, who had been listening with checked
breath, while her face waxed very pale. "It is the step of two persons
on the gravel. Let me go--let me go for an instant, this is no dress
for a bride," and she glanced hurriedly at her black silk dress,
relieved only by a frill of lace and a knot or two of rose-colored
ribbon.

"What matters it, beautiful as you always are."

"No, no, I cannot be married in black--I will not be married in
black," she cried hurriedly, and with a forced effort to be gay; "wait
ten minutes, I will but step to the chamber above and be with you
again directly."

Florence disappeared through a door leading into the main portion of
the building, while Jameson arose and went out to meet the two men,
who were now close by the stoop, and looking about as if undecided
what door to try at for admission.

"Let us take a stroll in the garden," he said, descending the steps,
"the lady is not quite ready yet; how beautiful the morning is," and
passing his arm through that of a man who seemed some years older than
himself, and who had accompanied the clergyman, he turned an angle of
the building. The clergyman followed them a pace or two, then
returning sat down upon the steps that led to the stoop and took off
his hat.

"This is a singular affair," he muttered, putting back the locks from
his forehead and bending his elbows upon his knees, with the deep sigh
of a man who finds the air deliciously refreshing, "I have half a mind
to pluck a handful of flowers, step into my chaise and go back to the
city again; but for the sweet young lady I would. There is something
about the young man that troubles me--what if my good-nature has been
imposed upon--what