He kissed her forehead, arose, and sauntered out of the room. And Hagar sprang upon her feet with a snap of her teeth, exclaiming, “Powers and principalities of darkness! is this I? is this I? What is this? am I bewitched, enslaved? I—_I_—_I_! pale, and tremble, and obey—_I_! Come, Hagar!” said she, to herself, “let us go to the glass and see if we have changed as much in person as we have in manner during the last ten minutes!” and she went to the glass and glared at herself. “Would I submit to this, if I did not love him, if I did not want him to love _me_? Raymond! oh! you who looked _so_ gentle, so fair—who could think that under those golden lashes, in those soft eyes, lurked such spring lancets! And Rosalia! Was he sincere? or was he self-deceived? or perchance am I mistaken?” The dinner bell rang, and hastily arranging her dress, she descended the stairs and entered the dining-room. Raymond came forward to meet her, and led her to her seat at the table, whispering as he went, “Your cheek is flushed, love, and your ringlets a little dishevelled. I am sorry to see that; take time in future, love, even though you should keep people waiting a few minutes; take time to compose yourself and arrange your toilet.” That afternoon Rosalia Aguilar had three distinct invitations to make her home under the room of three distinct friends. She gratefully declined two—that is Emily’s and Hagar’s, in favor of Captain Wilde and Sophie. The next Sabbath, the whole family from Heath Hall attended divine service at the parish Church of the Ascension—Rev. Mr. Buncombe in the pulpit. It was to be the last Sunday of their stay. Mrs. Withers’s pew, in which sat Hagar, Raymond, Rosalia, Sophie, and Captain Wilde; and Mrs. Buncombe’s pew, occupied by herself and Gusty, were the two front pews of the middle aisle, immediately under the pulpit. After the morning service was over, the benediction pronounced, and the congregation had retired, the occupants of these front pews filed out, and placed themselves before the altar in the following order: Captain Wilde, with Sophie on his left hand, and next to her Rosalia; on his right hand, Gusty, while Emily, Hagar, and Raymond were grouped near. The preacher opened his book, and in the holy stillness of the empty church, commenced the marriage rites that were to unite for life Sophie and Augustus; he went on, finished them, the names of bride, bridegroom, and attendants and witnesses were affixed to the register; kisses were given and received; heartfelt, low-toned congratulations breathed, and the little party slowly left the church, got into their saddles, and rode over to Heath Hall, where a small party were assembled to dinner. Dear girls, have I given you love, courtship, and marriage enough in this and the last? Whatever you may think, there is “more truth than poetry” in the story I am telling you, and more sadness than either.