Six years prior to the commencement of our story New Haven boasted not
a better or wealthier citizen than Harcourt Linwood, of whose
subsequent failure and death we have heard from Uncle Israel. The
great beauty of his only child, Ada, then a girl of nearly thirteen,
was the subject of frequent comment among the circle in which he
moved. No pains were spared with her education, and many were the
conjectures as to what she would be when time had matured her mind and
beauty.

Hugh St. Leon, of New Orleans, then nineteen years of age, and a
student at Yale, had frequently met Ada at the house of his sister,
Mrs. Durant, whose eldest daughter, Jenny, was about her own age. The
uncommon beauty of the child greatly interested the young Southerner
and once, in speaking of his future prospects to his sister, he
playfully remarked, "Suppose I wait for Ada Linwood."

"You cannot do better," was the reply, and the conversation
terminated.

The next evening there was to be a child's party at the house of Mrs.
Durant, and as Hugh was leaving the house Jenny bounded after him,
saying, "Oh, Uncle Hugh, you'll come to-morrow night, won't you? No
matter if you are a grown-up man, in the junior class, trying to raise
some whiskers! You will be a sort of restraint, and keep us from
getting too rude. Besides, we are going to have tableaux, and I want
you to act the part of bridegroom in one of the scenes."

"Who is to be the bride?" asked Hugh.

"Ada Linwood. Now I know you'll come, won't you?"

"I'll see," was Hugh's answer, as he walked away.

Jenny well knew that "I'll see" meant "yes," and tying on her bonnet,
she hastened off to tell Ada that Uncle Hugh would be present, and
would act the part of bridegroom in the scene where she was to be
bride.

"What! that big man?" said Ada. "How funny!"

Before seven the next evening Mrs. Durant's parlors were filled, for
the guests were not old enough or fashionable enough to delay making
their appearance until morning. Hugh was the last to arrive, for which
Jenny scolded him soundly, saying they were all ready for tableaus.
"But come, now," said she, "and let me introduce you to the bride."

In ten minutes more the curtain rose, and Hugh St. Leon appeared with
Ada on his arm, standing before a gentleman in clerical robes, who
seemed performing the marriage ceremony. Placing a ring on Ada's third
finger, St. Leon, when the whole was finished, took advantage of his
new relation