“You are in error as to the reasons you assign.  In the first place, I am not to leave Washington so soon as I expected; as it is arranged that we shall remain here for the solemnization of the marriage, which will not take place until the first of July.  And in the second place, instead of there being but little to do in the office, there will be a great deal to do—­all Claudia’s estate to be arranged, the viscount’s affairs to be examined, marriage settlements to be executed,—­I wish it was the bridegroom that was to be executed instead,—­letters to be written, and what not.  So that you see I shall need your services very much.  And besides, Ishmael, my boy, I do not wish to part with you just now, in this great trial of my life; for it is a great trial to me, Ishmael, to part with my only child, to a foreigner whom I dislike and who will take her across the sea to another world.  I have loved you as a son, Ishmael.  And now I ask you to stand by me in this crisis—­for I do not know how I shall bear it.  It will be to me like giving her up to death.”

Ishmael arose and placed his hand in that of his old friend.  His stately young form was shaken by agitation, as an oak tree is by a storm, as he said: 

“I will remain with you, Judge Merlin.  I will remain with you through this trial.  But oh, you do not know—­you cannot know how terrible the ordeal will be to me!”

A sudden light of revelation burst upon Judge Merlin’s mind!  He looked into that agonized young face, clasped that true hand and said: 

“Is it so, my boy?  Oh, my poor boy, is it indeed so?”

“Make some excuse for me to the family below; say that I am not well, for that indeed is true; I cannot come into the drawing room this evening!” said Ishmael.

And he hastily wrung his friend’s hand and hurried from the room, for after that one touch of sympathy from Claudia’s father he felt that if he had stayed another moment he should have shamed his manhood and wept.

He hurried up into his little room to strive, in solitude and prayer, with his great sorrow.

Meanwhile the judge took up his hat for a walk in the open air.  He had not seen his daughter since he had given his consent to her betrothal.  And he felt that as yet he would not see her.  He wished to subdue his own feelings of pain and regret before meeting her with the congratulations which he wished to offer.

“After all,” he said to himself, as he descended the stairs “after all, I suppose, I should dislike any man in the world who should come to marry Claudia, so it is not the viscount who is in fault; but I who am unreasonable.  But Ishmael!  Ah, poor boy! poor boy!  Heaven forgive Claudia if she has had anything to do with this!  And may Heaven comfort him, for be deserves to be happy!”

CHAPTER LXIII.

THE BRIDE-ELECT.

  She stands up her full height,
    With her rich dress flowing round her,
  And her eyes as fixed and bright
    As the diamond stars that crown her,—­
  An awful, beautiful sight.