Time is not only a destroyer; he is a healer too. Sorrow and joy attend his flight; and each in turn commands the passing hour. The family of Mr. Rutherford had laid aside the badges of mourning which, in token of respect for the memory of one they loved, they had put on when William Andrews died. The scene at his bedside had been ratified in secret, and Henry Tracy felt every day more and more satisfied with the one he had chosen. There was some little stir, indeed, when it was known abroad, and some even hinted the idea that he had stooped a little in taking one situated as Hettie had been; but none who really knew her ever thought so. She was a bright star, dimmed awhile by clouds, and now to shine in her true, simple lustre; her husband's heart, her husband's home, and the circle over which his care rested, were now to feel her sweet and womanly influence.

The pressure of trouble had done its bidden work upon the views and habits of Mr. Rutherford; and then, by the same kind hand which brought it, was it taken off. The recovery of his deed at once placed him in possession of wealth; the immense value of the tract of timber was daily becoming more evident, and he was in a few months enabled to commence the joyful duty of liquidating the claim upon his homestead. He had resolved, in time, to rebuild upon the ruins of his former house; but prudence was his watchword now, and until every cent of the claim was cancelled, he determined to remain in his present situation. He was, however, for a few months occupying the beautiful mansion of Commodore Trysail, at the special request of the latter, who was about to leave for the south, where he and his lady expected to remain some time.

The pretty parsonage, which has been so long waiting for an occupant, is at last full of life and bustle. The windows have been opened for some days, and young female forms are seen moving about in all directions through the house. Curtains are putting up and carpets putting down, bedsteads are coming together, and large flat beds are lying about in readiness to be put upon them; piles of chairs, tied together two and two, are waiting to be released; and crates, boxes, and baskets, all well filled, are being broken open and pulled to pieces, while from them be borne off by nimble hands and feet all sorts of every thing, to be arranged according to their different uses.

In the mean time there is a great stir at Mr. Rutherford's. Old ladies and young ones have been much together there of late; vast quantities of needles and pins and silk and thread have been in requisition; and then the old family recipe-book has been for days lying on the large kitchen table, with heaps of flour and butter alongside of it, and busy hands have been violently engaged beating insides of eggs, and taking out the insides of raisins, and stewing things together in all sorts of ways; while at times a most savory smell would escape to the upper stories, enough to set all the old women and young children running down stairs.

At length the meaning of all this bustle is unfolded. A wedding day has come. Henry Tracy has been putting his pretty cottage in readiness to receive the lovely girl, who has consented to be its mistress; and Hettie, with the aid of her companions, and under the care of Mrs. Rutherford, has been making preparations for the hour when she yields herself in holy wedlock to the man she loves.

It has been a busy day with the family of Mr. Rutherford from early dawn until near its close; and now, as evening approaches, lights are seen glistening from every window in the large building, and through the wide hall, flitting like fairies, young ladies are passing and repassing, and going up and down with light and joyous steps, as though pleasure had come down and shed her quickening charm upon them all. Carriages of various kinds are landing groups of young and old, and then driving off with speed. Attendants at the door in neat array, are leading the new comers to the various rooms assigned for their reception. For a while confusion seems to reign; then all subsides to quiet. The joyous laugh and the lively call are hushed, and within the spacious parlor have all assembled who are to be the witnesses of the solemn rite. Dazzling with lights, scattered profusely round, and trimmed with evergreens and early flowers, it seems a fairy bower; while, circling the room the well-dressed guests, with staid and even solemn faces, are whispering to each other, or eyeing with curious gaze the beautiful festoons that grace the windows or sweep across the lofty ceiling.

It is the wedding day of the young pastor and his gentle bride, and Henry Tracy enters the room, accompanied by his three bridesmen, Captain Oakum, and James and Edward Montjoy. Soon after Hettie appears led by Mr. Rutherford, who is to act as her father, and give away the bride. She is simply dressed without ornament of any kind, but the long white veil which falls in light and graceful folds from her head, and partly hides her dark luxuriant hair. Her bridesmaids follow, Susan Morris, and the sisters of the young Captain, and of James and Edward Montjoy.

'Before I present to you,' said Mr. Rutherford, addressing Mr. Tracy, 'this chief earthly treasure'—and he turned his eyes for a moment to the blushing girl who was leaning on his arm—'I must beg your acceptance of this paper, you will find when you look upon it, that you are not taking to your home a portionless bride. She is as dear to the hearts of Mrs. Rutherford and myself as if she were our own child, and we have given to her the dowry of a daughter of our own. You chose her as a poor portionless girl, and would have loved her as tenderly had she continued so; but we all know that this is an uncertain world, and it is as well to be prepared for its troubles. May God bless you both!'

One wedding, it is said, leads to another. Whether this is so or not, I cannot say, but the signs are ominous; for James Montjoy and Mary Oakum take long walks by moonlight, and Sam spends every evening at General Morris's, and other tokens tell plainly what things are coming to.

But the long road which I and my readers have travelled together, must here end: are you not glad of it?

J. OGDEN AND CO. LIMITED, PRINTERS. GREAT SAFFRON HILL, E.C.

THE LILY SERIES.

Uniform with this Volume.

The design of this Series is to include no books except such as are peculiarly adapted by their high tone, pure taste, and thorough principle to be read by those persons, young and old, who look upon books as upon their friends—only worthy to be received into the Family Circle for their good qualities and excellent characters. In view of this design, no author whose name is not a guarantee of the real worth and purity of his or her work, or whose book has not been subjected to a rigid examination, will be admitted into the "Lily Series."

Transcriber's Note: Hyphen variations left as printed.