“It is not to external condition,” the bride remarked, “that we are to look for happiness.” I thought her voice had in it a pensive tone, as if she were not wholly satisfied with the brilliant promise that lay before her. “You know, Doctor, we have talked that over more than once in our lives.” “Yes, Delia; and it is a truth which we ought never to forget--one that I trust you and your husband will lay up in your hearts.” I turned to the young man desiring my admonition to reach him also. “Perhaps I might differ something from this sage conclusion,” he answered a little flippantly. “As far as I can see, the external condition has a great deal to do with our happiness. I am very sure, that if I were situated as some people are whom I know, I would be miserable. So you see, Doctor, I have my doubts touching this theory of yours and Delia's.” “Time, I think, will demonstrate its truth,” I said, in a graver tone, and turned from them to give place to those who could talk in a lighter strain than was possible for me on the occasion. During the evening I saw Wallingford more than once in conversation with the bride; but only when she happened to be a little separated from her husband, towards whom his manner was coldly polite. The two young men, after the scene in Judge Bigelow's office, only kept up, for the sake of others, the shadow of acquaintanceship. Between them there was a strong mutual repulsion which neither sought to overcome. As I remarked I saw Wallingford more than once in conversation with the bride. But nothing in his manner indicated any sentiment beyond that of friendship. He was polite, cheerful, and at his ease. But it was different with her. She was not at her ease in his company, and yet, I could see that his attention was grateful--even pleasant. The augury was not good. As I read the signs, Delia Floyd, when she passed from maidenhood to wifehood, departed from the path that led to happiness in this world. And I said to myself as I pondered her future--“May the disappointments and sorrows that are almost sure to come, turn her feet aside into the right way at last!” CHAPTER XII. On the day following, the young husband bore his bride away to grace the prouder home that awaited her in New York; and affairs in our town settled themselves down into the old routine. During the few months that have passed since the opening of our story, the only matter that has occurred, of any interest to the reader, at the Allen House, is the fact that Judge Bigelow has undertaken the management of Mrs. Montgomery's affairs, and the establishment of her claim to the possession, as only heir, of the whole of Captain Allen's property. Some legal difficulties, bearing upon her identification as his sister, were in the way; and in the effort to remove these, there had been considerable correspondence with persons in England.