The Daily Phoenix

[Original.]
CENTURY.
WHAT IS LOVE THE:
FORTUNES OF JULIET CLAYBURN
CHAPTER XIV—JULIET'S WEDDING.
My love will wear a bridal veil,
A wreath of orange flowers;
And so I care not if the sun
Should founder in the sea,
For oh! the heaven of her love
Is light enough for me.
[Henry Lynden Flash.]
Each one to each was what no other had been,
Nor ever could be.—Mrs. Downing.
Hours passed, and still Karl came not forth. We cannot tell what passed between those two men, for to no human being was the incidents of that painful interview ever revealed. At last, Mr. Clayburn knocked at the door and entered.
When Karl came out, there was a peculiar light in his face.
"Where is Miss Clayburn?" he said, hurriedly, to the servant.
Hetty pointed to the parlor opposite.
The door was ajar, so Karl went in without knocking. Juliet was alone, sitting beside a window, silently gazing out into the night, now changing into day.
As he rapidly advanced toward her, Juliet seemed to be struck with the peculiar expression of Karl's face.
"I see you bring good news," she said; "you look so much brighter. He will recover?"
His face fell a little.
"Yes, I hope so—I trust so—the doctor thinks there is considerable cause for hope," but Thed. is very despondent about living—without good reason, I think. But, oh! Julie, I have something to tell you, so extraordinary, so remarkable, so unlooked-for, so—Oh, I cannot find words to speak." He was indeed very much agitated, and for a few moments said nothing more. Again he found voice—
"Cannot you fancy what I have to say, Julie?"
"Indeed, I cannot."
"Well, you must know—of course, you know it—that Thed. is the most noble-hearted, generous fellow in the world—the most self-sacrificing—the most—but now I know you can guess what I have to say."
"Of course, I cannot," said Juliet; "you talk so incoherently; I cannot imagine."
"Well, you see, Juliet, as I told you, Thed. being the best fellow in the world, and the noblest, and the kindest, and the most considerate, he says as this was to have been your wedding-day, it must be so still."
"Why, that's out of the question," said Juliet, interrupting him; "it is altogether impracticable. He must be terribly weakened, from the loss of so much blood. I know he wouldn't be able to go through the ceremony."
"Of course, he wouldn't!" said Karl; "but don't you see, Julie, I am to stand for him."
"Stand for him!" exclaimed Juliet, and then casting a quick glance at Karl, and seeing his eager face, and the expression of the eyes regarding her so steadily, the truth suddenly burst upon her comprehension with overwhelming power.
"Yes," said Karl, "I see you understand now. But will you, Julie? Can you? Can you give up Thed. for me? Dear old Thed. He seems quite to have set his heart on it. He says, he knows he will never recover to be your husband himself, and now, it will make him happier than anything on earth to see you my wife. I told him everything without reserve and he says; after so much suffering: we deserve to be happy. So what shall I tell him, Julie? Shall we become husband and wife, this blessed day? Oh! answer me, Julie."
He spoke in a low, trembling voice, and approaching her, put his arms lovingly around her. Juliet did not repulse him, but she did not meet his glance; the downcast eyes were downcast still.
"Karl," she asked, in a low voice; "do you think Theodore will die?"
"Oh, no, no! I do not believe it—I cannot think he will—"
"And granting that he lives," said Juliet; still without looking at him; "can you accept such a sacrifice at his hands?"
"Don't think I haven't thought of that," cried Karl, earnestly; "don't think I haven't, for I have! Don't think for a moment, I implore you, that the realization of my brightest and dearest hopes can give me perfect joy, when those hopes are born anew over the grave of his. But oh! my God, Juliet—I cannot help wanting you, under any circumstances—at any cost. I have loved you so long—I love you so well!"
She hid her face on his breast.
"And you, Julie," he whispered, "do you love me still?"
She raised her truthful eyes now—with their luminous, purple light.
"Karl," she said, solemnly; "I would have done my duty to Theodore—I would have been a true wife to him, with God's help, but you know, as you said to-night, our vows were made not only for time but for eternity. I have never been able to forget that entirely. I think, and I know, Karl, I never could love anybody as I love you."
"My God, I thank thee for this!" said Karl, fervently; "mine at last—Oh, joy unutterable!"
CONCLUDED IN OUR NEXT.