"Time has laid his hand
Upon my heart, gently, not smiting it,
But as a harper lays his open palm
Upon his harp to deaden its vibrations."
CHAPTER XII.
EVELYN'S BRIDAL MORN—FESTIVITIES AT "SUNNYBANK."
. . . "To the nuptial bower
I led her blushing like the moon, all heaven,
And happy constellations on that hour
Shed their selectest influence, the earth
Gave sign of gratulation, and each hill,
Joyous the birds;" —Milton
Such is the glowing description of the appearance of nature on the morn when, in the presence of God and the host of white-robed angels, was celebrated the nuptials of our common ancestors— nuptials whence sprang the ills of our humanity.
Could the fair and beautiful Eve have foreseen the future that to her seemed so promising, would she not have given up to despair and remained aloof from sound of tempting voice?
But God's decree willed it otherwise, and the fair Eve, whose beauty and submissive charms had power to influence her lord and master, became the mother of mankind.
It would be unjust, uncharitable, to intrude upon the feelings of the pair to participate in the present festive ceremony at "Sunnybank."
Evelyn Verne emerges from her boudoir "a thing of beauty." Was ever bride more enchanting, radiant or beautiful? Were ever bridal robes more graceful? Perfect beauty, queenly beauty, dazzling beauty. It is needless to expatiate upon the shimmering train, mist-like veil or conventional orange blossoms. Reader, we will allow your imagination full scope. Let it rest upon the radiant bride until the eye becomes familiar with the minutest arrangement of the elegant costume.
And then the bridesmaids! Five lovely maidens—St. John's fairest daughters. Five bewitching forms with grace in all their movements, claim our attention; and on all sides—"How pretty!" "How sweet!" "How beautiful!"