John arrived a week before the marriage, with intelligence that set the house in a turmoil; Charley had started to Missouri that morning. He "was the bearer of his excuses and the bridal gift." Carry wept; and Arthur was indignant; Dr. Carleton proposed a postponement, which was unanimously voted for by the servants. "Twouldn't be no wedding wuth talking about, 'thout Mars' Charles was thar!" The motion was strenuously opposed by a minority of three--John, Ida and Arthur; John asserting, in his business way, that the ceremony could be performed as well without the absentee; and that his example of punctuality in keeping engagements should be improved. The two others deprecated a change, without distinctly stating their reasons. They carried the day. Poplar-grove was visible for miles around, on the moonless night of the bridal. Lights blazed in every window; starry festoons depended from the trees; and in the garden, the glow-worm fairies might have been celebrating the royal birth-night. In doors, the scene was one of bewildering beauty. Fairies of mortal mould flitted through the summer bowers, at whose decoration, Flora must have presided in person. Carry was too modest to covet display; but Dr. Carleton was wealthy and liberal; and Ida and Mrs. Dana, who were both fond of splendor and excitement, had his hearty concurrence in their designs. The former planned everything. It was a new business to her; but she struck out boldly, copying a gorgeous conception of her fertile brain, guided solely by her eye and judgment. Her subordinates marvelled at first; but had too much faith in her to rebel; and as the idea was developed, their industry and delight surpassed her expectations. When completed, the effect was so novel and pleasing, they were ready to fall down and worship her; and more cultivated taste did not derogate from their eulogistic approbation. Dr. Carleton thanked her with moistened eyes; Arthur laughingly wondered--"what talent next? her versatile genius kept him in a state of perpetual wonderment;" but Carry's silent kiss was dearer praise than all. As first bridesmaid, and an inmate of the mansion, Ida was virtually mistress of the ceremonies; Mrs. Dana confining her attention to the arrangement of the banquet, dressing-rooms and chambers. Carry had invited all of her schoolmates who were within reach; among those who came, were Anna Talbot, Emma Glenn, Ellen Morris, who was staying at Mr. Truman's, and our old friend Celestia;--"cousin Lucindy" being again conveniently remembered. The three first named, were bridesmaids. Ida walked with Mr. Euston; and as the train formed, she thought of the two who would have taken precedence of him; of the chilly sleep of the pulseless heart, and the desolation of the living one; while the irrevocable words were said, she heard, like the echo of a knell--"caring for nothing, striving for nothing--now that my guiding star has set;" and the sigh, which