He drew her head down upon his bosom, and smoothing back her hair, kissed her forehead and then her lips; he seemed more inclined to caress than to converse, so she asked him no more questions then. He seemed to love her so tenderly and truly now, that she no longer defied him. And she was sinking into a sort of luxurious repose—which, we hope, may last. The carriage had been winding up a wooded hill, where the branches of the tall trees met overhead, so that Hagar, looking out, could scarcely see the stars glimmer through the foliage; at last it emerged from the woods and stopped; the steps were let down, the door opened. Raymond sprang out and held his hand to assist Hagar; then conducted her through a wide gate. It was dark, and she could see only trees, with glimpses of sward between them; and off to her left flitting in and out glimpses of a white house, whose size and shape it was impossible to detect. Their path formed a half circle and ascended; presently emerging from it, they stood before a large and elegant mansion, whose appearance corresponded with that of the villa she had so much admired on her way up the river. He led her up the broad marble stairs that led to the front door—opened the door, from which a flood of light poured, letting go her hand, stepped in before her, turned, opened his arms, and said, in a voice of deep emotion, “Come, dear Hagar! Let me welcome you to your long, future home—welcome! welcome! dear wife, to arms, and bosom, and home.” Hagar threw herself into his embrace, and then he led her through a door opening from the left into a superb drawing-room, furnished in the old, gorgeous style, with a rich Turkey carpet “that stole all noises from the feet,” with crimson velvet, gold fringed curtains hanging from the windows, and opposite from the lofty arch that divided the front from the back room; with heavy chairs and sofas, whose crimson coverings harmonized with the curtains; with crystal mirrors reaching from ceiling to floor; with rare paintings from the old masters; with costly and curious lamps, whose light glowing through the stained glass shades upon the crimson appointments of the room, diffused a rich, subdued refulgence through the scene. Raymond led Hagar to one of the deep arm-chairs, and seating her, pulled the bell-rope. The door opened, and the footman who had attended them, stood a step within the room. “Request Mrs. Collins to come to us.” The man bowed and withdrew. Soon the door again opened, and a small, elderly woman, in a black silk dress and a neat cap, made her appearance.