“Neither do I like them, Archie,” she said, gravely. “We have no right to make light of any subject so serious as marriage; but Minnie is a wild, thoughtless girl, intent only on the excitement of the moment, and did not stop to consider. I must say, though, that Miss Richards helped to carry it off splendidly, and appeared the blushing, modest bride to perfection. She is a fine-looking girl.” She said this to sound him, regarding him searchingly all the time that she was speaking. “Yes; she appears to attract considerable admiration,” he replied, indifferently, and then passed on. He went out at the great hall-door upon the veranda, which Josephine had just a moment or two ago traversed, and followed almost in her footsteps, until he came to that little circle of shrubbery, when, instead of going within it, he went around it. He could not shake off the unpleasant sensations that were upon him; everything in his nature had suddenly seemed to become out of tune, and he wished to get away from even the sounds of the gay revelers within the house, while his thoughts turned wistfully toward the new world and Star. He was getting very impatient to go to her, and he had intended to be on his way thither before this, but circumstances had recently transpired by which he would be detained another month, and the time seemed very long to him. He paced back and forth in the moonlight for some time, his footsteps making no sound on the velvety turf; but all at once, as he passed that evergreen circle, within which Josephine still sat, a sob fell upon his ear and startled him. He stopped to listen, and heard the sound repeated. With his usual energy and decision, he passed around to the entrance and approached the group of statuary to ascertain who was there. At first he could see no one, for just then the moon was hidden by a cloud, and Josephine’s dress being white, her form blended with the marble and could not be distinguished, while she was so absorbed by her own emotions that she was not aware of Lord Carrol’s presence until he touched her on the shoulder and said: “Pardon me, you are grieving; is your trouble anything that I can help?” She sprang to her feet instantly and confronted him, her cheeks blazing hotly, her whole form trembling from the touch of his hand. “Miss Richards!” he exclaimed, in surprise, as he recognized her, while involuntarily he recoiled from her, so unexpected and disagreeable—in his present frame of mind—was this meeting. “I thought,” he added, “that you were in the ball-room enjoying yourself with the other merrymakers.” She noticed the coldness of his tone, as well as his unconscious shrinking from her, and it cut her to the heart, while at the same time it aroused her anger. “Enjoying myself!” she repeated, passionately and unguardedly; “the evening is spoiled for me; everything is spoiled—the world and my life. That mockery through which we have just passed has made me _miserable_.”