On the eve of their departure from Ivy Cliff, Mr.Delancy had a long conference with his daughter, in which he conjured her, by all things sacred, to guard herself against that blindness of passion which had already produced such unhappy consequences.

She repeated, with many tears, her good resolutions for the future, and showed great sorrow and contrition for the past.
"It may come out right," said the old man to himself; as he sat alone, with a pressure of foreboding on his mind, looking into the dim future, on the day of their departure for New York.

His only and beloved child had gone forth to return no more, unless in sorrow or wretchedness.

"It may come out right, but my heart has sad misgivings." There was a troubled suspense of nearly a week, when the first letter came from Irene to her father.

He broke the seal with unsteady hands, fearing to let his eyes fall upon the opening page.
"My dear, dear father! I am a happy young wife." "Thank God!" exclaimed the old man aloud, letting the hand fall that held Irene's letter.