heaven before you get her half way through the knot," glancing at the lace drapery which hung in rich profusion over the pearl colored silk that was Mrs. Claremont's choice for her daughter's wedding dress.
Upon reaching the stairs, a sound as of distant music fell upon their ears, which gradually approached nearer until they reached the parlor, when a choir of infant voices in an adjoining room sung a hymn appropriate to the occasion. It was well for Rosalind that she had attained so much composure that day, or she would have found the exercises too lengthy, notwithstanding all she had said about the hasty manner in which the marriage ceremony is apt to be consummated. When with solemn emphasis the minister addressed her with the query, "if she would promise to love, honor and obey," she gave not the slightest token of response. That investigating mind had unpremeditatedly started off on a train of thought suggested by the occasion and the words, which could not comprehend the connection of the phrase with their relations to each other. The hour was too sacred,—the lingering influence of the music too exalted to be desecrated by an assent to any unmeaning phrase or unhallowed requirement which would give the lie to the pledge of mutual love, reverence and equality each acknowledged as their bond of union.
When the services were concluded, a troop of six young girls, dressed in white with wreaths of the arbutus and orange bloom intertwined with sprigs of
