There came a message to the door that my father was in the dining-room and wished to see me. I was fully dressed. Can a bride forget her ornaments? I thought they were very dazzling as I saw them in my mirror. I could not help pausing to look at myself, at the lustre of my dress, and the glow of Harry's bracelet on my arm; and I was about to go away so, to see my father--but Alice stopped me to wrap a large light shawl over my splendor--"Dear, he'll feel it," said Alice. I was struck with the delicacy which both Alice and Mr. Osborne, though they condemned him, showed to my father and his feelings. I wrapped the shawl closer over my arms, and with a subdued step left my own room. I wondered what he was thinking of. I wondered if this day recalled to him the freshness of those hopes which had been dead and withered for many a year, and when I went in at last, I went very softly and humbly, like a timid child. He was pale and his eyes were hollow--he looked rather worse than usual to-day--and before I reached the door of the room, I had heard his slow measured footsteps pacing from window to window. He very seldom did this, and I knew it was a sign of some excitement and agitation in his mind. I was pleased it should be so. I was pleased that he did not send me away with his perfect cold self-possession, as if I had been a book or a picture. He turned towards me when I went in, but did not look at me for a moment! and when I met his eye, I saw by his momentary glance of relief, that he was glad not to see me in my full bridal dress. But this was only for a moment; he came towards me steadily, and with his own hands removed the shawl. I hung my head under his full serious gaze. I felt the color burning on my cheek and the tears coming to my eyes. A few hours and I would be away from him. A few hours, and it might be, I would never see him again. But my tears were checked by the touch of his cold firm hand upon my head. "God bless you, Hester!" he said, slowly. "My own life has been unfortunate and aimless. I think all my better ambition died on my wedding-day. I gave myself over to the bitterest feeling in the world, a sense of wrong and injury, while I was still young, and reckoned happy. I would fain hope your life is to be happier than mine has been; but in any case, do not follow my example. I care not who blames or justifies me, but I have not made so much by my experiment that I should recommend it to my child--forgive when you are wronged--endure when you are misunderstood--if you can, at all times be content. I believe a woman finds it easier to attain these passive heroisms, and heaven knows I have profited little by my resistance to the mild fictions of ordinary life. Remember, Hester, what I say; take whose example you will to form your life by, only do not take mine."