Their soft, voluptuous bodies wove among each other to the faint notes of a lyre. ‘I am not a murderer. His pale and boyish waist was nearly as slim as her own. On the envelope was written— Sydney Courtlaw, Esq. I knew it. Young and old were dressed in their gayest apparel; and it was evident from the smiles that lighted up every countenance, from the roguish looks of the younger swains, and the demure expression of several pretty rustic maidens, that a ceremony, which never fails to interest all classes,—a wedding,—was about to take place. No more did she offer her forehead for the good-night kiss. Besides, Gerald would not for the world have passed up the chance of a little excitement. " "Oh!" Ruth laughed softly.
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