“Where is my father?” exclaimed Walter on his arrival at the mansion, rushing by his mother and sisters who had hastened to the door to meet them. “Lead me to my father,” said he, catching hold of Mary. As she went toward the room, he rushed by her; and entered, closed, and locked the door. Mary stood without listening to his wild outbursts of grief. In anguish he called upon him once more to speak to him. It was the lamentation of the prodigal yearning in vain to hear his father’s voice. It was the pleading of the wanderer who had returned with the hope of cheering his last days. “Mary,” said a gentle, well known voice, “My beloved Mary, we meet with your father’s blessing resting upon us.” In an instant she was in the arms of Edward James, and weeping upon his bosom. Walter Levingston at this moment entered the apartment. “Did my father ask for me, Mary?” said he. “Oh yes,” she replied, “often. Almost his last words were, ‘My son receive my blessing.’ And he told me to request you, Edward, to say to your father, ‘I die in peace with all men, and willingly entrust the happiness of my daughter to your son.’” “Forever blessed be his memory,” said Edward. “Never shall his confidence be misplaced, or that daughter have reason to doubt my trust.” The door now opened, and Mrs. Levingston, leaning on the arm of one of her daughters, entered. “Beloved mother,” said Walter, embracing her, “from this hour it shall be my first care and study to promote your comfort. Here by the corpse of my father, I resolve to do all in my power to fill his place, and render your last days peaceful and happy.” Some months from this period, a party was seen to alight from a carriage early one morning in front of Saint Paul’s Church. The blessings of many were heard in low murmurs from the crowd that filled the vestibule. “She was the pride of her father,” said an aged female who stood leaning against the wall, “and I know she will be a blessing to her husband.” Early as was the hour, the Church was crowded with spectators. Many had risen to get a more perfect view of the fine manly form of him that was about to bear away the sweet Mary Levingston from her maiden home. The silence was intense as the impressive marriage ceremony of the Episcopal Church was read; and fervent were the responses of those who promised through weal and wo to be faithful to each other. As the party turned to leave the Church, a hearty “God bless them,” resounded from many. Mrs. James was greatly affected as she cast a farewell glance on these familiar faces. Her husband hurried her to the carriage. “The blessing of many has rested on you, dear Mary, to-day,” said he, as they were borne to their new home. “Yes,” said she, “and I thought as I stood before the bridal altar, I heard the voice of my departed father saying, ‘God bless you.’” * * * * * I AM YOUR PRISONER.