Border weddings will soon be as legendary as that of Lochinvar. The rail has already destroyed the romance of the journey, and the law will speedily put an end to its profit, by requiring a fortnight's residence before a marriage will be valid. Let "victims," therefore, make haste. It was rather different when Randolph carried off his bride from Grosvenor Square. He had engaged a carriage for the journey, but he wanted time and experience to arrange an express, and was consequently much delayed during the night. The travellers had not accomplished more than fifty miles, when day broke upon them. It had been a silent, though sleepless ride, and morning showed Randolph the traces of tears on Mildred's cheeks. They called to his mind in an instant the extent of the sacrifice she had made; for he would be no party to any suit for reconciliation. He had torn his bride from her station and her friends, and held himself precluded from all attempt to restore her to their love. His father's spirit seemed to whisper in his ear, that for him there could be no communion with those whom Mildred was bound to honour, and whom he had persuaded her to desert. And for what? What lay before himself? He endeavoured to repel such considerations, and to devote himself to the comforting of his companion. But his efforts were of little avail. He became gloomy and abstracted. So soon did repentance mingle with the feelings of the fugitives. But still they hurried forwards. Retreat, for Randolph at least, was out of the question; and to be overtaken would be defeat. He could afford no such triumph to Philip or Esther Pendarrel. And the father's pursuit was fruitless. He gained upon the chase at every stage; but he came up too late. They were united, never to be put asunder. They heard of his arrival, and Mildred would have thrown herself at his feet. But her husband would not suffer it. It was rather early for a matrimonial dispute, and a sad occasion of difference. Dark forebodings crowded on the heart of the young wife. It was far from being so that she was bidden to leave father and mother and cleave to her husband. But Randolph would join her in a letter. No; he would not even permit her to write on his behalf. She must strictly confine her apologies to herself. For him, he would make none, and would ask for no forgiveness. It was his part to forgive.