both of which centered in Julia Hamilton. And so they were engaged, and
after that there was no wavering on his part--no looking back to a past
which seemed like a happy dream from which there had been a horrible
awaking.

He loved Julia at first quietly and sensibly, and loved her more and
more as the winter and spring went by and brought the day when he stood
again at the altar and for the second time took upon him the marriage
vow. It was a very quiet wedding, with only a few friends present, and
Miss Frances was the bridesmaid, in a gown of silver gray; but Julia's
face was bright with the certainty of a happiness long desired; and if
in Guy's heart there lingered the odor of other bridal flowers, withered
now and dead, and the memory of other marriage bells than those which
sent their music on the air that summer morning, and if a pair of sunny
blue eyes looked into his instead of Julia's darker ones, he made no
sign, and his face wore an expression of perfect content as he took his
second bride for better or worse, just as he once had taken little
Daisy. In her case it had proved all for the worse, but now there was a
suitableness in the union which boded future happiness, and many a
hearty wish for good was sent after the newly married pair, whose
destination was New York.

It was nearly dark when they reached the hotel and quite dark before
dinner was over. Then Julia suddenly remembered that an old friend of
hers was boarding in the house, and suggested going to her room.

"I'd send my card," she said blushingly, "only she would not know me by
the new name, so if you do not mind my leaving you a moment I'll go and
find her myself."