“Be silent! How dare you humble yourself, or flatter me so shamefully!” exclaimed Marguerite, flushing with indignation. “As for the ‘magnificent,’ that can be easily transferred; ‘fine feathers make fine birds,’ and queenly jewels go very far toward making queenly women,” she continued, proceeding to unclasp the pearls from her own neck and arms, and to fasten them upon those of Cornelia. “No, no, dear Marguerite, desist! I cannot, indeed. I cannot consent to shine in borrowed jewels,” said Miss Compton, opposing this ornamental addition to her costume. “They are your own; wear them for my sake, sweet Nellie,” replied Miss De Lancie; clasping the necklace and kissing the bride with renewed tenderness. “But your matchless set of pearls! a dower, a fortune in themselves! I cannot, Marguerite! Indeed, indeed, I dare not! Such a transfer would look as if you were not quite sane, nor myself quite honest,” said Cornelia, with sincere earnestness. “Ridiculous! I care not for them, or, I assure you, I should not give them away. Hush! don’t put me to the trouble of pressing them upon you, for really I do not consider them worth the expenditure of so much breath. Stop! don’t thank me, either, for I have no patience to listen. We are all ready, I believe? What are we waiting for?” While she spoke, there came a gentle rap at the connecting door between Cornelia’s and her parents’ bedchambers. It was Colonel and Mrs. Compton, who were waiting there to embrace and bless their child before giving her up to the possession of another. Cornelia went in to them, and after a stay of five minutes, returned with her eyes suffused with tears, evanescent tears that quickly evaporated. And in another moment Colonel Compton came to the passage door and announced to the bevy of bridesmaids that the bishop had arrived, and that the bridegroom and his attendants were waiting downstairs. “We are ready. But remember, colonel, that I have never met Mr. Helmstedt.” “I shall not fail to present him, Marguerite,” replied the old gentleman, turning to go downstairs. The bride’s party followed in due order; the third bridesmaid, leading the way, received the arm of her appointed escort, and advanced toward the saloon; the second did likewise; then Marguerite, in her turn, descended. She had never before seen the distinguished-looking personage, then waiting at the foot of the stairs to offer his arm and lead her on; but Colonel Compton stood ready to present him and all was well. Marguerite reached the last step, paused, and raised her eyes to look at the stranger, whom Cornelia’s description had invested with a certain interest.