The lamps were lighted, and, Lord Linleigh, laughing to think how they had all been engrossed, drew a large parcel toward himself. "This shows," he said, "that we have something unusual going on. This packet of periodicals has been in the library for several days, and no one has thought of opening it. It is the first time such a thing has happened." He unfastened the string and looked through them casually. One, however, seemed to attract his attention. It was beautifully illustrated, and he laid it down with a smile. "Read that, Doris," he said; "it contains a warning for you." "What is the warning, papa? I would rather take it from you than from print." "I have not read it. Look at the engraving. It is evidently the story of a bride who, on her wedding-eve, dresses herself in her bridal-robes--girlish vanity, I suppose--just to see how she looks. The wedding-dress catches fire, and she is burned to death. Moral: young ladies should never try on their wedding-dresses beforehand." "What a tragical story!" said the countess. "I can never see the use of such stories," said Mattie; "they make every one sad who reads them." "Burned to death on her wedding-eve," said Earle, "and all because she wanted to see if she should be charming enough in the eyes of her lover! There is no poetic justice in that." "What was the heroine's name, papa?" asked Doris. "Miriam Dale. I always notice that if a heroine is to come to any pathetic end she is called Miriam." "Did she love her lover very much?" asked Doris. "Read the story, my dear," said the earl, indolently; "it is not much in my line. The engraving caught my attention--a beautiful, frantic girl, dressed in bridal robes and wreathed in flames. There is something terrible about it." Doris rose from her seat and opened the book; then, after looking at the picture, she laid it down with a long, shuddering sigh. "Stories often fail in poetic justice," she said. "If that girl was young and innocent, if she had done no wrong, why should she have been killed on her wedding-eve?" "Stories are, after all, but sketches taken from life," said the earl, "and life often seems to us, short-seeing mortals, to fail in poetic justice, although, no doubt, everything is right and just in the sight of Heaven. Doris is growing serious over it." "We tried her wedding-dress on this morning, but there was no fire near it, and no harm came of it." "I am no believer in those stupid superstitions, although I have heard it is unlucky to try on a wedding-dress; still I do not believe it will make one iota of difference." "How can it?" said Earle, calmly; and they all remembered that conversation a few hours afterward. The ninth of August came, and Lord Linleigh, as they sat at breakfast, said laughingly: