On reaching home, where great anxiety during the snow-storm had been felt for us all, I found an important event had taken place. The two Cockspurs, perceiving that in the prosecution of their country improvements it would not be in their power, particularly during the winter, to be much with their mother, had signified to her they would no longer oppose her union with Mr. Herbert. On the morning after my return, that gentleman called to inform me of this; and it was determined between us, that no time should be lost in completing the marriage.

No event, which did not directly affect myself, ever gave me so much pleasure as this. It seemed to me all that was necessary to consummate the happiness of a most excellent and admirable person; and I had many a consultation with my better half, as to what we ought to do, in order to show our esteem for the gentleman and the lady on the occasion of their wedding. Not that it was to be distinguished by any inordinate doing—quite the reverse. It was, in every way, to be brought about as an ordinary occurrence; but we were anxious to present them with some testimonial of our respect. It was singular, however, and we have often since both spoken of it, that, notwithstanding our earnestness, we never came to any agreement concerning what the compliment should be; which, it must be allowed, was remarkable,—it was ominous.

An early day was fixed for the ceremony, Mr. Bell was bespoken to perform it, and all the nick-knacky preparations usual on such occasions were sedately going forward. But three days before the time appointed, a tremendous drifting snow-storm came on. Mrs. Cockspur, at the time, was with my wife, and, in the hope it would abate towards the evening, consented to spend the afternoon at our house. But the hurricane continued to increase; the violence of the wind was hideous; no person of Mrs. Cockspur's years could wrestle with it; it tore the roofs off the unfinished buildings, scattering all things that came within the sweep and swirl of its skirts.