Soon after the completion of his college course, his whole nature was kindled into one intense and passionate effervescence of romantic passion.

His hour came,--the hour that comes only once; his star rose in the horizon,--that star that rises so often in vain, to be remembered only as a thing of dreams; and it rose for him in vain.

To drop the figure,--he saw and won the love of a high-minded and beautiful woman, in one of the northern states, and they were affianced.

He returned south to make arrangements for their marriage, when, most unexpectedly, his letters were returned to him by mail, with a short note from her guardian, stating to him that ere this reached him the lady would be the wife of another.

Stung to madness, he vainly hoped, as many another has done, to fling the whole thing from his heart by one desperate effort.
Too proud to supplicate or seek explanation, he threw himself at once into a whirl of fashionable society, and in a fortnight from the time of the fatal letter was the accepted lover of the reigning belle of the season; and as soon as arrangements could be made, he became the husband of a fine figure, a pair of bright dark eyes, and a hundred thousand dollars; and, of course, everybody thought him a happy fellow.
The married couple were enjoying their honeymoon, and entertaining a brilliant circle of friends in their splendid villa, near Lake Pontchartrain, when, one day, a letter was brought to him in _that_ well-remembered writing.