The society of that revered man who was preparing for a better world and appealing to a higher judgment than that of a selfish faction, the calm pleasures of country life, the continued attentions of enthusiastic admirers, the many visits of dear tried friends, the consolations of religion, and the devotion of one true heart that had never ceased its homage, was her compensation for many trials. In 1863, Miss Lane was confirmed in the Episcopal Church, at Oxford, Philadelphia, of which her uncle was the rector, by Bishop Stevens. She would have joined the Presbyterian Church, to which her uncle belonged, had he desired it, because she was as liberal as he is known to have been in his religious views, and they never differed on doctrinal points. But several circumstances had made it convenient for her to attend the Episcopal Church a great deal, and she had early learned to love its beautiful prayer book, and in any other church to miss its significant forms. About this time occurred the death of James B. Lane, leaving Harriet no brother nor sister, nor indeed any near relations except her two uncles, the Rev. E. Y. Buchanan, and the ex-President, to whom she clung with renewed affection. However, one morning in January, 1866, when the evergreens before the old house at Wheatland were burdened with snow, and the lawn was white, and the spring was frozen, and icicles hung from the roof, the grounds there were made gay and bright by the assemblage of carriages that brought guests to see the marriage, by the Rev. Edward Y. Buchanan, of Harriet Lane and Henry Elliott Johnston. Indoors, there was nothing in the glow of the fire, the odor of the flowers, the gratified appearance of the host, or the sunny faces of the wedding party, to indicate the struggle just finished between two loves. Some weeks after the marriage, Mr. and Mrs. Johnston went to Cuba, where they spent a month or two most delightfully. From there, Mr. Johnston took his wife to his house in Baltimore, which, with characteristic taste, thoughtfulness, and liberality, he had elegantly and luxuriously fitted up for the lady of his dreams, to whom he forthwith presented it. It would scarcely be fair to dwell, in print, upon the happiness of this congenial pair, but it would be unpardonable if we did not assure the reader, that Mr. Johnston is all that Miss Lane’s husband ought to be. Even those who naturally disliked to see Miss Lane pass out of the house of her great kinsman into any other home, soon became charmed with Mr. Johnston, and could not but congratulate Miss Lane upon this choice, made from many lovers.