"He told me that Dilecta had consented to become his wife

'O, Arthur! you know it makes it worse if you always come to me when they want you. I could wait very well. Only one day above all you must come,' said she, with lowered voice, in his ear.

John could not see how, instead of speaking, she guided her husband's hand to her wedding-ring. His reply transpired--'I'll not fail. Which day is it?'

'Friday week. I hope you will be able!'

'I'll manage it. Why, it will be your birthday, too!'

'Yes, I shall be so glad to be seventeen. I shall feel as if baby would respect me more. Oh! I am glad you can come, but you must be good, and go to the soiree. I do think it would not be right always to leave them when they want you. Tell him so, please, Mr. Martindale.'

John did so, but Arthur made no promises, and even when the day came, they were uncertain whether they might think of him at the party, or as smoking cigars at home.

Her scourge is felt, unseen, unheard, Where, though aloud the laughter swells, Her secret in the bosom dwells, There is a sadness in the strain As from a heart o'ercharged with pain.--The Baptistery

Theodora had come to London, hating the idea of gaieties, liking nothing but the early service and chemical lectures, and shrinking from the meeting with her former friend. She enjoyed only the prospect of the comfort her society would afford her brother, depressed by attendance on a nervous wife, in an unsatisfactory home.