e
blackness of her heart, and seen the awful hideousness of her face, how
he would have cast her from him with contempt and loathing!

When about to take his leave, he lingered in the entry and begged her to
grant him a kiss; she consented, on condition that it should be a 'kiss
in the dark.' The candle was extinguished, she raised her veil, and he
pressed his lips to hers. Could he have seen her ghastly cheek, her
eyeless sockets, and the livid lips which he so rapturously kissed, his
soul would have grown sick with horror. But he departed, in blissful
ignorance of her deformity of body and impurity of soul.

We hasten to the final catastrophe. They were married. The eager
bridegroom conducted his veiled and trembling bride to the nuptial
chamber.--Josephine was much agitated; for the grand crisis had arrived,
which would either raise her to a comfortable independence, or hurl her
into the dark abyss of despair.

'Is it very light here?' she asked. 'Yes, dearest,' replied the
husband--'I have caused this our bridal chamber to be illuminated, in
order that I may the better be enabled to feast my eyes upon your
beauty, so long concealed from my gaze.'

'Prepare yourself,' murmured Josephine, 'for a terrible disappointment.
I have not deceived you.--Behold your bride!'

She threw up her veil.

LETTER FROM MRS. SOPHIA SYDNEY TO A LADY.

You cannot imagine, my dearest Alice, what a life of calm
felicity I enjoy with my beloved Francis, in our new home
among the majestic mountains of Vermont. Had you the faintest
conception of the glorious scenery which surrounds the little
rustic cottage which we inhabit, (our ark of safety--poor,
wearied doves that we are!) you would willingly abandon your
abode in the noisy, crowded metropolis, to join us in our
beautiful and secluded retreat.

Our dwelling is situated on the margin of a clear and quiet
lake, whose glassy surface mirrors each passing cloud, and at
night reflects a myriad of bright stars. We have procured a
small but elegant pleasure barge, in which we often gently
glide over those placid waters, when Evening darkens our
mountain home with the shadow of her wing, and when the moon
gilds our liquid path with soft radiance. Then, while my
Francis guides the little vessel, I touch my guitar and sing
some simple melody; and as we approach the dark, mysterious
shore, my ima