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 devising schemes for his success. Very discreet in his blandishments and reasonable in his propositions, the innocent heart was beguiled and the first day of June was appointed to celebrate their nuptials. He would gladly have hastened it sooner, but yielding to her feelings of regret at the thoughts of leaving her northern home, he deferred it as long as possible, and really acted honestly in doing so. There was an irresistible charm about him when he gave full play to his higher nature that would justify the confidence of as pure-minded a woman as Grace Blanche. She tried hard to forget that any cause ever existed to doubt his sincerity, but since the night she received Mr. Livingston back to her friendship, she felt the strength of his former influence. They met seldom now, and he never mentioned the subject, feeling that it was too late. He could only hope that a reformation had taken place, and she might be happy in her new relation. It was a source of regret that she was to leave the city, but southern corruption had not been so fully revealed then as now, and no one thought of raising that question as an objection to her departure, either in relation to her happiness or his deportment. Her numerous friends sent their congratulations, past rumors were forgotten, and all seemed to go merrily as a marriage bell, save that leaden weight at her heart.

The bloom faded from her cheek, but elicited no comment. The wedding day came, the ceremony was performed, and the bridal couple were cheered with all the good wishes it was possible for loving friends to shower upon them. Ernest Livingston