ld
seem to suggest that sorrow and happiness--however varied in their
bloom--yet have a common root. Thus it was with Augusta now. As she
stood in the vestry there came to her mind a recollection of her dear
little sister, and of how she had prophesied happy greatness and success
for her. Now the happiness and the success were at hand, and there in the
aisle stood her own true love; but yet the recollection of that dear
face, and of the little mound that covered it, rested on them like a
shadow. It passed with a sigh, and in its place there came the memory of
poor Mr. Tombey, but for whom she would not have been standing there a
bride, and of his last words as he put her into the boat. He was food for
fishes now, poor fellow, and she was left alone with a great and happy
career opening out before her--a career in which her talents would have
free space to work. And yet how odd to think it: two or three score of
years and it would all be one, and she would be as Mr. Tombey was. Poor
Mr. Tombey! perhaps it was as well that he was not there to see her
happiness; and let us hope that wherever it is we go after the last event
we lose sight of the world and those we knew therein. Otherwise there
must be more hearts broken in heaven above than in earth beneath.

"Now, then, Miss Smithers," broke in Dr. Probate, "for the very last
time--nobody will call you that again, you know--take my arm; his
Lordship--I mean the parson--is there."

* * * * *

It was done, and they were man and wife. Well, even the happiest marriage
is always a good thing to get over. It was not a long drive back to
Hanover-square, and the very first sight that greeted them on their
arrival was the infant from the City (John's), accompanied by his
brother, the infant from Pump-court (James'), who had, presumably come to
show him the way, or more probably because he thought that there would be
eatables going--holding in his hand a legal-looking letter.

"Marked '_immediate_,' Sir; so I thought that I had better serve it at
once," said the first infant, handing the letter to John.

"What is it?" asked Eustace, nervously. He had grown to hate the sight of
a lawyer's letter with a deadly hate.

"Notice of appeal, I expect," said John.

"Open it, man!" said Eustace, "and let's get it over."

Accordingly, John did so, and read as follows:--

"MEESON V. ADDISON AND ANOTHER

"Dear Sir,--After consultation with our clients, M