[Illustration: THE GIRL’S OWN PAPER VOL. XX.--NO. 997.] FEBRUARY 4, 1899. [PRICE ONE PENNY.] A BRIDAL SONG. [Illustration: “GOD SPEED THEE!”] Oh, happy bride! Heaven’s sunlight wraps thee in a golden gleam, And in thine eyes the light of love supreme, And in thy heart the dawning of a dream, And what beside! Hopes reaching wide, Out into the new life unbegun, Into the untrodden ways thy feet may run And the dim future only known by One-- The One Who died. And a sweet pride That thou art chosen the whole world above, And girt about with mightiness of love, Which waits to cherish thee as tend’rest dove Till death divide. And there abide In thy full heart most sweet-sad memories Of one who smiles on thee from out the skies, Thy best belovèd, now in Paradise, Thy earliest guide; At whose dear side Thy girlhood’s opening flower sweetly grew, Till death transplanted her into the blue; There to watch over thee with love more true And purified. In the untried And varying life which waits thee, rosy-hued, God speed thee! and give daily grace renewed, And bless with all His large beatitude Thy marriage-tide. Though thou be tried And troubled oftentimes in this new life, Christ wall be with thee through the calm and strife, Help thee to beautify the name of wife, Oh, happy bride! _All rights reserved._] “OUR HERO.” A TALE OF THE FRANCO-ENGLISH WAR NINETY YEARS AGO. BY AGNES GIBERNE, Author of “Sun, Moon and Stars,” “The Girl at the Dower House,” etc. CHAPTER XIX. ORDERED TO BITCHE. Roy forgot everything except the affair on hand. He dashed upstairs and into the salon at a headlong pace, knocking over a chair as he entered. It fell with a crash, and Roy stopped short. Denham was on the sofa, no one else being present except Lucille, who, with her bonnet on, as if she were going out, had just taken an empty cup from his hand. “Roy, you unkind boy,” she said, turning with a look of positive anger. “How you can do it!” “O I’m sorry. I didn’t remember. Isn’t Den better?” “Not remember! But you ought to remember. So without thought. It is selfishness.” For Lucille to be seriously displeased with Roy was an event so new in his experience, that Roy gazed with astonished eyes. “No matter,” interposed Denham. “Had a good time, Roy?” “I’ve seen lots of people. Den, I’m sorry, really. I didn’t mean----” “No, of course not. It’s all right.” “Where is my father?” Roy asked in a subdued voice. “Gone out--but ten minutes since,” said Lucille. “General Cunningham sent to see him on business. And Colonel Baron has to go with him somewhere, and cannot return soon. So dinner is put off till six.” “And mamma?”