were compelled to tear themselves asunder, though the parting was like
that of soul and body. The bride hung on the bridegroom's neck, as the
tendril clings to its support, until removed by gentle violence.

Bridget did not give up her hold upon Mark so long as even his vessel
remained in sight. She went with Anne, in a carriage, as low as the
Point, and saw the Rancocus pass swiftly down the river, on this its
fourth voyage, bearing those in her who as little dreamed of their fate,
as the unconscious woods and metals, themselves, of which the ship was
constructed. Mark felt his heart beat, when he saw a woman's
handkerchief waving to him from the shore, and a fresh burst of
tenderness nearly unmanned him, when, by the aid of the glass, he
recognised the sweet countenance and fairy figure of Bridget. Ten
minutes later, distance and interposing objects separated that young
couple for many a weary day!

A few days at sea restored the equanimity of Mark's feelings, while the
poignant grief of Bridget did not fail to receive the solace which time
brings to sorrows of every degree and nature. They thought of each other
often, and tenderly; but, the pain of parting over, they both began to
look forward to the joys of meeting, with the buoyancy and illusions
that hope is so apt to impart to the bosoms of the young and
inexperienced. Little did either dream of what was to occur before
their eyes were to be again gladdened with the sight of their respective
forms.

Mark found in his state-room--for, in the Rancocus, the cabin was fitted
with four neat little state-rooms, one for the captain, and two for the
mates, with a fourth for the supercargo--many proofs of Bridget's love
and care. Mrs. Crutchely, herself, though so much longer experienced,