stly wedding costume, and the
subsequent conventional reception at the bride's residence being
dispensed with. The ceremony was witnessed only by the officiating
minister, the sexton, the happy father, and about two hundred of the
floating population of Broadway, including a number of pickpockets, one
of whom sounded the recesses of the coat tails appertaining unto Mr.
Whedell and his son-in-law, as they were coming out of church, and found
nothing in them.

The Siamese twins of the soul passed from the church amid the sneers,
criticisms, and suppressed laughter of the spectators--who united in
pronouncing the ceremony a shabby affair, not worth looking at--and,
entering a carriage with Mr. Whedell, were driven to the New Jersey
Railroad Depot furiously, as if they had been guilty of some crime
against society. At the depot, Mr. Whedell kissed his daughter in
public, and not without a touch of the melodrama, for which he had
cherished a fondness in his earlier days, and wrung the hand of his
son-in-law. The train bore the couple away toward the city of
Washington, where a portion of that indefinite season known as the
honeymoon was to be passed, amid every discomfort that money could
purchase. Why they should have gone to Washington in pursuit of bad
hotels, and other miseries, when they could have procured them in so
many other parts of the country for a quarter of the money, was
something which Mr. Chiffield was never able to explain to his own
satisfaction.

He afterward bitterly regretted that he had not made the nuptial trip to
Newburg, or some place near the city, where the expenses would have been
more moderate. But we anticipate.

Mr. and Mrs. Chiffield had been absent ten days. They were expected home
on the 28th day of April; but a letter from Clementina informed her
father that she had taken a bad cold, was confined to her room, and
could not return before the 1st of May. The brief note was written in a
crabbed hand, and exhibited spots, which, if not lemon juice, were
tears. She made no allusion to her husband, but wound up by saying, "Oh,
pa! I am an unhappy girl!"

This intelligence was a thorn in the bed of Mr. Whedell's comfort. Had
he not arranged to settle with his creditors on the 1st of May? Was not
the owner of the house occupied and used by him to resume possession on
that eventful day? And was not everything--even his daily
food--dependent on the return of his children, as he fondly called th