THE wedding was to be strictly private. This point Gertrude had yielded to her brother, who was unwilling that any stranger's eye should intrude on an occasion so painful to him. The husband elect arrived only the previous evening, and the nuptial ceremony took place at Rose Cottage at nine o'clock in the morning. There was a handsome breakfast at eleven; and the bridal party took the boat for Albany at two. Directly after the ceremony, Edward invited the wedded pair into the library, where he put into his sister's hand a deed of gift of the house he had purchased, explaining that he had furnished it with her money; and that, on a number of the articles, she would find a mark showing that it could be exchanged if not in accordance with her taste. Gertrude was wholly overcome at this generous gift, especially as she knew how her wilfulness had grieved her brother. She threw her arms around his neck and begged him always to remember that she loved him next to Paul; and that she never, never would forget his kindness. The parting between poor Hannah and her darling was so painful that all were glad when it was over; and the self-sacrificing woman was free to give vent to her grief. For Gerty's sake she had put a violent constraint upon her own feelings; dressing her dear child in the bridal garments with her own hands, and decking her fair head with orange blossoms. Indeed, since she had found it must be so;—that no arguments could avail with the self-willed girl, she had abstained from useless reproach, and substituted such counsel as her true woman's heart enabled her to give. Though her opinion of Mr. Dudley had never changed since she first begged Edward to find some excuse for shortening his friend's visit; yet never after the marriage was settled did she, by word or look, give evidence of her distrust. Every night she sought Gertrude's couch with the excuse, "I shan't have you with me long darling," and there cautioned her against the indulgence of those traits which would surely wean her husband's affection; or begged her to mark out and continue some course of study such as would fit her to be as useful a woman as her mother was. Sometimes Gertrude was softened by Hannah's earnestness, and would promise any thing. At other times she would pout, or say: "You talk as if Paul didn't love me much; but he does; no matter what I do wrong, he says he can't help loving me." Then Hannah would urge a higher motive for self-discipline, even the favor of God; and the impulsive child would weep and confess: "I'm sick of being naughty. I wish I could be good always." Then they both would kneel while Hannah besought the blessing of her heavenly Father upon the child in the untried scenes before her.