I walked up to the house at a few minutes to seven o'clock, and was shown into the same parlor by the same servant. I had not been in the room for more than a minute when Mr. Chambers came in looking very fresh and smiling. After a few casual remarks he gave me the wedding-ring, which I was to put on the bride's finger. He had hardly done so when a young clergyman came in in full canonicals, and after him Mr. Duke with a lady who wore a white veil of such a thick texture that it would have been impossible, had I tried, to distinguish her features. The service began at once. I had been previously "coached" by Mr. Chambers, and got through my part of the ceremony pretty well; but her responses were given in a much more steady tone than mine were. The only bit of information that I gained from the marriage service was that her name was Catherine. Otherwise I might as well have been married to a being in another world as to the cold statuesque form which was standing by my side, and which was presently to vanish from my sight forever. The service over, she sat down while I replied to the questions of the clergyman and signed the marriage register. Then, in accordance with our previous arrangements, Mr. Chambers and I quietly left the room and went up-stairs to a richly furnished drawing-room. Here he left me for a few minutes, and then returned, saying: "I think we may leave now. You will do me the pleasure, I hope, to dine with me this evening." We descended the stairs, and had just got to the hall-door, which Mr. Chambers was in the act of opening, when the parlor door opened, the veiled figure of the lady I had married came out, bowed slightly to both of us--more to me, I thought, than to Mr. Chambers--said in a voice in which I could detect no expression or emotion, "Farewell," glided lightly up the stairs, and disappeared. We both bowed; I could find no word in answer. Mr. Chambers opened the door; in a minute it was shut behind us, and we were walking toward Oxford Street. PART II. NICE. Five years passed away after the marriage in York Place without anything particularly eventful occurring in my life. I finished my education, took a fairly good degree at Cambridge, got called to the Bar, and was, perhaps, neither better nor worse than the majority of bachelors who have uncontrolled possession of a large income. As time passed on, I am ashamed to say that I pretty nearly forgot all about Miss Grey. This seems, no doubt, very fickle and unromantic. But five years is a long time; and the new scenes and circumstances that I was surrounded by after my marriage naturally engrossed my attention in a way that those who have never experienced such a change of fortune can hardly understand or make allowance for.