e walls, which opened their doors
to take us in. And can I make so poor a return for this friendly
generosity, or so ungratefully scorn and reject the means presented to
reinstate my father in wealth and magnificence, as to refuse to perform
the act which will repay the kindness and restore to him the elegant
home whose loss he so deeply deplores? O, no! I must not be so selfish
and ungrateful. Still, it seems a great sacrifice even to insure a
father's ease and happiness. I have an increasing dread and horror of
this Col. Malcome, which I cannot overcome, despite all his apparent
generosity and sympathy in our misfortune, and lavish display of
profusion and splendor with which he surrounds this approaching bridal.
It seems to me all this munificence goes to serve some fell purpose of
his own. His strange power over my easy-natured father excites dark
apprehensions in my bosom. But why torture myself with imagined ills,
when the dread realities are sufficient to unnerve my soul! Now, amid
this piteous wailing of storm and wind, I write the last words on these
dear old leaves as Florence Howard, and betake me to my pillow,--but O,
not to sleep! The bride of to-morrow will make a sorry figure in her
silks and jewels."

CHAPTER XLIV.

"As Heaven is my spirit's trust,
So may its gracious power
Be near to aid and strengthen me
When comes the trial hour."

The hour drew on; the guests assembled, and the minister waited the
entrance of the bridal party to perform the solemn ceremony.

The storm drove wildly without the mansion, in strange contrast with the
glowing warmth and luxuriance of the apartments within.

Col. Malcome sat on a velvet sofa, in graceful attire, supporting the
wasted form of his daughter; who, thin, pale, and white as the garb she
wore, leaned her head, all shorn of its beautiful curls, heavily against
his shoulder. It was a sad sight to behold that feeble, emaciated figure
rising from a bed of disease and pain, to mingle among the festive
groups which filled those splendid drawing-rooms.

Suddenly there was a stir in the hall, and the bridal group entered.
Florence, with the tips of her gloved fingers just touching the arm of
the man who was in a few moments to become her husband, moved gracefully
to the seat assigned her. She was magnificently arrayed in rose-colored
satin, with an