An unexpected event attracted her from the retirement in which her charitable functions had secluded her. Celestia Pratt was married! and to Ellen's chagrin, to a cousin of the Morris family. He was good-looking, ambitious and poor;--she susceptible a "Representative's" daughter, and rich. He wrote to his aunt that they would take Richmond in the wedding-tour; and she was obliged, _nolens volens_, to give them a party. Ida was disinclined to attend; but Ellen's solicitations conquered her reluctance. Mr. Cranleigh, the groom, was gentlemanly, even handsome, and accepted the customary greetings with as much complacency, as though his wife were not, as Ellen groaned to Ida--"Celestia, unmitigated Celestia!" "A penny for your thoughts!" said Ida, tapping Charley's arm with her fan. "I was thinking what falsehoods geologists tell us about the thickness of the crust of the earth, and how many years the mines of Peru have been worked." "A profound subject for deep meditation, but I am at a loss--" "Why, allowing a thousand brides a week in the civilized world, (and there are quadruple that number,) according to my rough computation, the miners ought to be within hail of the Chinese, or whatever nation is the antipodes of the Peruvians, by this time." "Their kindred craft, the jewellers, have been called upon by the Celestia-ls," said Mr. Thornton. "'Pon my word!" remarked Pemberton to Josephine, "I have heard of men who married 'for pretty,' but it's my opinion, Cranleigh married for ugly." Josephine laughed, but her attention was absorbed by some object in another part of the room. "You know everybody," said she; "who is that gentleman talking with the bride?" He knew everybody, and this must be nobody. He had certainly seen him somewhere before--it might have been at Newport--or perhaps in New Orleans, yet he could not call his name. Why did she inquire? "A question by the way--she was not curious. He had a foreign air, and she fancied might be one of Mr. Pemberton's friends--he had so many abroad." He had, and it would be awkward not to recollect him, if he should speak. "There's Cranleigh! he knows!" The stranger's name was Ashlin, an early acquaintance of Mrs. Cranleigh's, and later from the West Indies. "Had he resided there long?" Miss Read asked. "Two years--nearly three, indeed." Mr. Ashlin was graceful and _distingue_, and Ida was attacked by an unaccountable curiosity. She interrogated the bride. "What handsome man was that, you were conversing with, awhile ago, Celestia?" Her face was broad with smiles. "Law! why Mr. Cranleigh, my husband, to be sure! Haven't you been introduced? Here! Mr. Cran--" "Oh! don't!" said Ida. "I know him--don't interrupt him! I alluded to that tall gentleman by the folding-doors."