“This way, Marster Bellmont—­upstars is the gentleman’s room,” said the servant in attendance, and ascending the stairs, Durward met with Anna, asking her for her cousin.

“In there—­go in,” said Anna, pointing to a half-open door, and then hurrying away to meet Malcolm, whose coming she had seen from the window.

Hesitatingly, Durward approached the chamber indicated, and as his knock met with no response, he ventured at last to enter unannounced into the presence of ’Lena, whom he had not met since that well-remembered night.  Tastefully attired for the wedding in a simple white muslin, she sat upon a little stool with her face buried in the cushions of the sofa.  She had heard his voice in the lower hall, and knowing she must soon meet him, she had for a moment abandoned herself to the tumult of bitter thoughts, which came sweeping over her in that trying hour.  She was weeping—­he knew that by the trembling of her body—­and for an instant everything was forgotten.

Advancing softly toward her, he was about to lay his hand upon those clustering curls which fell unheeded around her, when the thought that from among them had been cut the hated tress which his mother had cast into the flames, arrested his hand, and he was himself again.  Forcing down his emotion, he said, calmly, “Miss Rivers,” and starting quickly to her feet, ’Lena demanded proudly what he would have, and why he was there.

“Pardon me,” said he, as he marked her haughty bearing and glanced at her dress, which was hardly in accordance with that of a bridesmaid; “I supposed I was to be groomsman—­am I mistaken?”

“So far as I am concerned you are, sir.  I knew nothing of Mabel’s writing to you, or I should have prevented it, for after what has occurred, you cannot deem me weak enough to lend myself to such an arrangement.”

And ’Lena walked out of the room, while Durward looked after her in amazement, one moment admiring her spirit, and the next blaming Mabel for not informing him how matters stood.  “But there’s no help for it now,” thought he, as he descended the stairs and made his way into the parlor, whither ’Lena had preceded him.

And thus ended an interview of which ’Lena had thought so much, hoping and praying that it might result in a reconciliation.  But it was all over now—­the breach was wider than ever—­with half-benumbed faculties she leaned on the window, unconscious of the earnest desire he felt to approach her, for there was about her a strange fascination which it required all his power to resist.

When at last all was in readiness, a messenger was dispatched to John Jr., who, without a word, offered his arm to Mabel, and descending the broad staircase, they stood within the parlor in the spot which had been assigned them.  Once during the ceremony he raised his eyes, encountering those of ’Lena, fixed upon him so reproachfully that with a scowl he turned away.  Mechanically he went through