to know--I would know. To-morrow I would ask
him if there was any sorrow in his life which a confiding girl ought to
be made acquainted with before she yielded him her freedom. But the pang
which pierced me at the thought, proved that I feared his answer too
much to ever question him.

I am thus explicit in regard to my thoughts and feelings at this time,
that I may more fully account to you for what I did later. I had not,
what every one else seemed to have, full confidence in this man, and yet
the thrall in which I was held by the dominating power of his passion,
kept me from seeking that advice even from my own intuitions, which
might have led to my preservation. I was blind and knew I was blind, yet
rushed on headlong. I asked him no questions till our wedding day.

My aunt, who seemed quite satisfied with Mrs. Vandyke's explanations,
promised to be present at the ceremony, which was set at an alarmingly
near day. My lovers on the contrary--by whom I mean the half dozen men
who had been attentive to me--refused to attend, so I had one care less;
for the lack of time--perhaps I should say my lack of means--precluded
me from obtaining a very elaborate wedding dress, and I did not choose
to have them see me appear on such an occasion in any less charming
guise than I had been accustomed to wear at party or play. _He_ did not
care what I wore. When I murmured something about the haste with which
he had hurried things forward, and how it was likely to interfere with
what most brides considered necessary to the proper celebration of such
an event, he caught me to his breast with a feverish gesture and vowed
that if he could have his way, there would be no preparation at all, but
just a ceremony before a minister which would make me his without the
least delay.

Men may enjoy such precipitation, but women do not. I was so troubled by
what seemed the meagerness of my wardrobe and the lack of everything
I had been accustomed to see brides bring their husbands, that I asked
Mrs. Vandyke one day if Mr. Allison was a rich man. She answered, with
a smile: "No, my dear, not as we New-Yorkers count riches. Having the
power of attorney for Mrs. Ransome, he handles a good deal of money;
but very little of it is his own, though to you his five-thousand-a-year
salary may seem a fortune."

This was so much Greek to me, though I did understand he was not
considered wealthy.

"Then my fawn-colored cloth will not be so very inappropr