Meysey Hill—never your wife. 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. " "The very idea is dreadful," whimpered Edgeworth Bess. I shall never come back. It is queer, but men of education and good birth fall swiftest and lowest. ” “Just as you wish,” Mr.
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