“Ah, Major, so you—don’t know her—some milliner’s apprentice, eh?” laughingly said a gentleman present, after the ceremony was over.
Clara Clayton, hearing that Leslie Pierpoint was to be married, went to the church, disguised in a strange bonnet and long green veil—but Leslie recognised her by her taper waist, and felt that his triumph and (if such a feeling really existed in his breast) his revenge were complete. Yes, Clara Clayton witnessed the ceremony, and when she saw it and recognised the bride’s face as she turned from the altar, she could scarcely suppress a shriek of mingled anger and disappointed malice. She went home and died the same year, the victim of her own selfishness.
Leslie Pierpoint and his beautiful lady are now travelling in Europe. Mary makes him an excellent wife, proving to be as good as she is beautiful.
THE CHRISTIAN’S DREAM OF THE FUTURE.
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BY ROBERT MORRIS.
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How brief our earthly span! Youth, Manhood, Age—
We creep—we walk—we totter off life’s stage,