fter you had gone, and a desolation such as I had never known came
over me. I went in at last, and opened a book to some verses I had been
reading, which I shall never forget. Shall I tell you what they were?"

"Yes," she whispered.

"They contain my answer to your question," he said.

"What became of all the hopes,
Words and song and lute as well?
Say, this struck you 'When life gropes
Feebly for the path where fell
Light last on the evening slopes,

"'One friend in that path shall be,
To secure my step from wrong;
One to count night day for me,
Patient through the watches long,
Serving most with none to see.'"

"Victoria, can you guess who that friend is?"

She pressed his hand and smiled at him, but her eyes were wet.

"I have thought of it in that way, too, dear. But--but I did not know
that you had. I do not think that many men have that point of view,
Austen."

"Many men," he answered, "have not the same reason to be thankful as I."

There is a time, when the first sharp winds which fill the air with
flying leaves have come and gone, when the stillness has come again, and
the sunlight is tinged with a yellower gold, and the pastures are still a
vivid green, and the mountain stained with a deeper blue than any gem,
called Indian summer. And it was in this season that Victoria and Austen
were married, in a little church at Tunbridge, near Fairview, by the
bishop of the diocese, who was one of Victoria's dearest friends. Mr.
Thomas Gaylord (for whose benefit there were many rehearsals) was best
man, Miss Beatrice Chillingham maid of honour; and it was unanimously
declared by Victoria's bridesmaids, who came up from New York, that they
had fallen in love with the groom.

How describe the wedding breakfast and festivities at Fairview House, on
a November day when young ladies could walk about the lawns in the
filmiest of gowns! how recount the guests and leave out no friends--for
none were left out! Mr. Jabe Jenney and Mrs. Jenney, who wept as she
embraced both bride and groom; and Euphrasia, in a new steel-coloured
silk and a state of absolute subjection and incredulous happiness. Would
that there were time to chronicle that most amazing of conquests of
Victoria over Euphrasia! And Mrs. Pomfret, who, remarkable as it may
seem, not only recognized Austen without her lorgnette, but quite
overwhelmed him with an unexpected cordial