little reflection will convince you that this day ought not to be one of
mourning. It was the suspense that has so worn out our hearts. If he is
acquitted, as we all believe and trust, think how appropriate will be the
outward seeming of our joy! If not, why I shall go before him to our
marriage home, and in marriage garments. Ay," she added after a moment's
pause, and with a much more grave, settled, and intense expression of
voice and countenance--"ay; do you remember how Eugene once told us, that
if we went at noonday to the bottom of a deep pit, [Note: The remark is
in Aristotle. Buffon quotes it, with his usual adroit felicity, in, I
think, the first volume of his great work.] we should be able to see the
stars, which on the level ground are invisible. Even so, from the depths
of grief--worn, wretched, seared, and dying--the blessed apparitions and
tokens of Heaven make themselves visible to our eyes. And I know--I have
seen--I feel here," pressing her hand on her heart, "that my course is
run; a few sands only are left in the glass. Let us waste them bravely.
Stay, Ellinor! You see these poor withered rose-leaves: Eugene gave them
to me the day before--before that fixed for our marriage. I shall wear
them to-day, as I would have worn them on the wedding-day. When he
gathered the poor flower, how fresh it was; and I kissed off the dew: now
see it! But, come, come; this is trifling: we must not be late. Help me,
Nell, help me: come, bustle, quick, quick! Nay, be not so slovenly; I
told you I would be dressed with care to-day."

And when Madeline was dressed, though the robe sat loose and in large
folds over her shrunken form, yet, as she stood erect, and looked with a
smile that saddened Ellinor more than tears at her image in the glass,
perhaps her beauty never seemed of a more striking and lofty character,--
she looked indeed, a bride, but the bride of no earthly nuptials.
Presently they heard an irresolute and trembling step at the door, and
Lester knocking, asked if they were prepared.