“How foolish to marry a city girl! A profitable wife she’ll make, to be sure!” cried one. “Why couldn’t he have married one of his own folks, I should like to know!” said a second. “Well, one thing is pretty certain; Rupert Forbes never will be beforehand—he has got to be poor enough all his days, and it is a pity, for he is a clever lad!” exclaimed a third. “And I warrant she will hold her head high enough above her neighbors,” chimed in a fourth. “Pride must have a fall—that’s one comfort”—added another, “and I guess it wont be long first, either!” In addition to which charitable speeches, Rupert received many long lectures, and many kind letters, warning him against the fatal step he had so unwisely determined upon. Opposition is often suicidal of itself, by bringing about the very event it most deprecates. In the present case, certainly, it did not retard the anticipated nuptials, for upon a certain bright morning in May, Rupert bore off his lovely young bride from her gay, fashionable home to his own quiet little nook in the country. When Anna exchanged her magnificent satin and blonde for a beautiful traveling dress, had any one demanded what were her ideas of the new life she was now entering upon, she would have discoursed most eloquently upon a cottage _ornée_, buried amid honeysuckles and roses, where, on the banks of a beautiful stream, beneath the shadow of some wide-spreading tree, she could recline and listen to the warbling of the birds, or, more delightful still, to the music of Rupert’s voice, as he chanted in her ear some romantic legend of true love—from this charming repose to be aroused only by a summons from some blooming Hebe, presiding over the less fanciful arrangements of the cottage, to banquet, like the birds, upon berries and flowers! Had the same inquiry been made of Rupert, as he looked with pride and love upon the young creature at his side, he would have traced a scene of calm domestic enjoyment, over which his lovely Anna was enthroned both arbitress and queen. To grace his home all her accomplishments were to be united with her native purity and goodness—her good sense was to guide, her approbation inspire his future career, and her sympathy alleviate all the “ills which flesh is heir to!” This was certainly expecting a great deal of a fashionable young beauty, whose life might be summed up in the simple word—pleasure; and whose ideas of country life were gathered from very romantic novels, or perhaps a season at Saratoga! But then Rupert was very much in love—walking blindfolded, as it were, into the snares of Cupid!