mother, and fastened the glittering brilliants in her
ears, on her arms, and the necklace set with diamonds and emeralds
around her snow-white neck.

"Now that looks splendid," said she, as she surveyed herself again.
"Now perhaps I may please him. But the last ornament is still
wanting--my myrtle-wreath--but that my father shall put on." Looking
at the wreath, she continued, in a more serious and sad tone: "Crown
of love and of death! it is woven in the maiden's hair when she dies
as a maiden, whether it be to arise again as a wife or as a purified
spirit." And raising her tearful eyes to heaven, she exclaimed: "I
thank Thee, O God, for granting me all this happiness. My whole life,
my whole future, shall evince but gratitude toward Thee, who art the
God of love."

Soon, however, it became too close and solitary in this silent
chamber. She wished to go to her father, to throw herself on his
breast, to pour out to him all her happiness, her affection, her joy,
in words of thankfulness, of tender child-like love. How the
white satin dress rustled and shone! how the diamonds sparkled and
glittered, as, meteor-like, they flitted down the dark corridor! With
a bright, happy smile, holding the wreath in her hand, she stepped
into her father's room. But the apartment was empty. She crossed it
in haste to seek him in his study. The doors were locked and no one
answered her loud calls. She supposed he had gone out, and would
doubtless soon return. She sat down to await him, and soon sank into
deep thought and reverie. What sweet and precious dreams played around
her, and greeted her with happy bodings of the future!

The door opened, and she started up to meet her father. But it was not
her father--it was Bertram. And how altered--how pale and troubled
he looked! He hardly noticed her, and his eye gleamed on her without
seeing her. What was it that had so changed him? Perhaps he already
knew that she was to be married to-day, and that her lover, so long
mourned, had returned to her. She asked confusedly and anxiously for
her father.

"My God! is he not here, then?" asked Bertram in reply. "I must speak
to him, for I have things of the greatest importance to tell him."

Elise looked at him with inquiring astonishment. She had never seen
him so intensely excited in his whole being, and unwillingly she asked
the cause of his trouble and anxiety.

Bertram denied feeling any anxiety, and yet his eye wandered around
searching