Of all the pictures burned in upon my life, that of Mr. Lee and his bride, as they stood up in that long drawing-room to be married, will be the last to die out from my mind. No bridesmaids were in attendance; no ushers coming and going drew attention from that noble couple. This was the picture,--a woman standing at the left hand of a tall, stately man. He was upright, firm, and self-poised as the pillar of some old Grecian temple. She drooped gently forward, her hands unconsciously clasped, the long black lashes sweeping her cheeks; a soft tremor, as of red rose-leaves stirred by the wind, passing over her lips; draperies of satin, glossy and white as crusted snow, fell around her; a garland of blush-roses crowned the braids of purplish-black hair thickly coiled around a most queenly head. Draperies of rich, warm crimson fell from the windows just behind them, and swept around the foot of a noble vase of Oriental alabaster, from which a tall crimson and purple fuchsia-tree dropped its profuse bells. Directly the clergyman, with a book in his hand, broke into the picture; but my mind rejects him and falls back upon the man, and the woman who stood with lovelight in her eyes and prayers at her heart, waiting to become his wife. There was great rejoicing after the picture was lost in a crowd of congratulating friends; music sent its soft reverberations out among the flowers, that gave back rich odors in return; for it was a lovely autumnal night, and the whole platform to which the windows opened was garlanded in with hot-house plants. I remember seeing groups of persons wandering about in the illuminated grounds. Their laughter reached me as I sat solitary and alone in the oriel window, over which lace curtains fell, and were kindled up like snow by the lights from without. I was very sad that night, and felt the tears stealing slowly into my eyes. Every one was happy, but joy had forgotten to find me out. All at once the lace curtains were lifted softly and fell rustling down again. _She_ had thought of me even in her happiest moments. Her arms were folded around me; her lips, warm with smiles, were pressed to my face. "All alone and looking so sad! why will you not enjoy yourself like the rest?" she said. "I am so young and so wicked," I answered, wiping the tears from my eyes. "Wicked! oh, not that, only there is no one of your own age here; come out a little while; he has been asking for you." "For me?" "Of course; who else should he think of? Why, child, you will never know how dearly we both love you." "And you always will?" I asked, holding my breath in expectation of her answer. "And always will, be sure of that. Ah! here he comes to promise for himself." Yes; there he stood holding back the curtains, proud, smiling, and strong, as I shall always remember him. "Ah! you have found her, silly thing, hiding away by herself," he exclaimed, kindly.