224 Reminiscences of 



felt sure he had then received an unusual wound. 

 What fate depended upon that ticket? Pretty soon a 

 number was hoisted over the piano, and Jane hastily 

 looked over her ticket, and behold, it was her own ! Her 

 modest and limited sewing-room was not, perhaps, just 

 suited for it, but she never thought of that. Where, 

 oh, where was the precious man, the angel of light, 

 the creator of her glorification, who had given her the 

 ticket! He approached, without even remembering 

 the number of his lucky ticket. But Jane quickly in- 

 formed him, and showered upon him such a merry run 

 of sweet words and tender glances that Ashberry fairly 

 staggered in the mazy flood. 



I thought it a good time to absent myself for awhile 

 and, making an excuse to see a friend, left Jane and 

 Ashberry for a promenade together, well satisfied that 

 Jane would improve the opportunity. When I re- 

 joined my May and December to accompany Jane to 

 her maternal home, I found that the autumnal season 

 of harvest had been woven in, and that Jane had ac- 

 quiesced in the proposal of Ashberry to call upon her 

 at her home. There, beneath the vigilant eye of 

 mamma, it would be quite appropriate. 



Time flew, as well as love, with galloping steeds, and 

 expectation wreathed the way with flowers. My visits 

 ceased and soon I learned of the engagement of Jane 

 with her long-waiting, impatient Ashberry. The mar- 

 riage soon followed, and Jane removed from her 

 tearful mamma's humble abode to a mansion in a 

 fashionable part of the city. 



Years rolled on, a quarter of a century, and I had 

 somewhat forgotten Jane in the busy hum of life, when 

 one evening at a social entertainment in London I 



