imself and Louise together. After a little discussion, this plan had
been adopted, and the four young people were much impressed with their
consequence, in taking part, for the first time, in so important a
ceremony.

On the evening before the wedding, they all walked up together from
their rehearsal in the chapel, and stopped for a little while on the
Everetts' front steps, where they were joined by Howard and Grant.

"To-morrow, and the next day, and the next, and then it will all be
over," said Marjorie pensively.

"I honestly haven't had time to think about it, this last week," said
Allie. "We've been so topsyturvy and busy that I haven't thought of
anything but packing and the wedding."

"No; we'll be the ones to do the thinking," said Ned, as he stretched
himself out at his ease, on the railing to the little porch. "With Lou
married, and you three going, there's nothing else left for us to do.
I'm going to turn hermit, and move up the gulch."

"I wouldn't, before fall, if I were in your place," returned Howard, in
a tone too low to catch the ears of the others.

"What's next fall?" asked Ned listlessly.

"Don't you give it away that I told you," said Howard, while he joined
his friend on the rail; "but I happened to hear your father talking to
my father, to-day; and it's all settled that you and Grant are coming to
St. Paul, next winter, to board with us, and go to school. Hush up!" he
added, as Ned gave a little exclamation of delight. "Don't tell the
others, for I oughtn't to have said anything about it; but I couldn't
hold in any longer."

For an hour more, they sat there; then Grant's voice broke the hush, as
he put his head in at the open window of the parlor, where his sister
and Dr. Brownlee were sitting in the moonlight.

"That's the seventh time you've said good night, Lou," he remarked, in a
hollow tone; "and I should think the eighth 'most ought to do the
business, unless you want to be dead sleepy, to-morrow night, while
you're in the middle of being tied up."

The next evening found the chapel crowded. Every seat was occupied, and
the side aisles were filled with the miners and their wives, who stood
waiting to look on at the marriage of "our Miss Lou," for she was a
favorite with them all. At length the murmur of voices died away, as Mr.
Nelson took his place in the chancel, while the little organ pealed out
the opening strains of the wedding march. A moment later, the doors
swung open an