Painful always is such an hour to a mother's heart, for the
future is uncertain; no one knows any thing about the new
vicissitudes that may arise.
And painful, too, to the wife of Councillor Bugeaud was this parting
from her dearly-loved daughter, but she suppressed her deep emotion,
restrained the tears in her heart, that not one should fall upon the
bridal wreath of her loved daughter. Tears dropped upon the bridal
wreath are the heralds of coming misfortune, the seal of pain which
destiny stamps upon the brow of the doomed one.
And the tender mother would so gladly have taken away from her loved
Margaret every pain and every misfortune! The times were
threatening, and the horizon of the present was so full of stormy
signs that it was necessary to look into the future with hope.
"Go, my daughter," said Madame Bugeaud, with a smile, regarding
which only God knew how much it cost the mother's heart--" go out
into your new world, be happy, and may you never regret the moment
when yon left the threshold of your father's house to enter a new
home!"
"My dear mother," cried Margaret, with beaming eyes, "the house to
which I am going is the house of him I love, and my new home is his
heart, which is noble, great, and good, and in which all the
treasures in the earth for me rest.
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