Take my hand, Rosy! so, thar she
goes! Hope ye'll find yer ma right smart! Give her my respects and
tell her,--wal, I swan!"

For the door flew open, and out ran the minister, torn and stained and
covered with dust, and caught Rose Ellen by both hands and drew her
almost forcibly into the house.

"Mother!" cried the girl. "How is she? I--I got so scared, not hearing
from her, I couldn't stay another day, Mr. Lindsay!"

"Oh,--your mother?" said Mr. Lindsay, incoherently. "She--a--she seems
to be in excellent health, except for her deafness. It is I who am
ill, Rose Ellen: very ill, and wanting you more than I could bear!"

"Wanting me?" faltered Rose Ellen, with lips wide, with blue eyes
brimming over. "You, Mr. Lindsay, wanting me?"

"Yes, Rose Ellen!" cried the minister. They were still standing in the
passage, and he was still holding her hands, and it was quite absurd,
only neither of them seemed to realize it.

"I have always wanted you, but I have only just found it out. I cannot
live at all without you: I have been only half alive since you went
away. I want you for my own, for always."

"Oh, you can have me!" cried Rose Ellen, and the blue eyes brimmed
over altogether with happy shining tears. "Oh, I was yours all the
time, only I didn't know you--I didn't know--"

She faltered, and then hurried on. "It--it wasn't only that I was
scared about mother, Mr. Lindsay. I couldn't stay away from--oh, some
said--some said you were going to be married, and I couldn't bear it,
no, I couldn't!"

But when Charles Lindsay heard that, he drew Rose Ellen by both hands
into the study, and shut the door. And only the lizard knew what
happened next.

* * * * *

It was a month later.

There had been a wedding, the prettiest wedding that the village had
ever seen. The whole world seemed turned to roses, and the sweetest
rose of all, Rose Ellen Lindsay, had gone away on her husband's arm,
and Deacon Strong and Deacon Todd were shaking hands very hard, and
blowing peals of joy with their pocket-handkerchiefs. Mrs. Mellen had
preserved her usual calm aspect at the wedding, and looked young
enough to be her own daughter, "some said," in her gray silk and white
straw bonnet. But when it was all over, the wedding party gone, and
the neighbours scattered to their homes again, Sophronia Mellen did a
strange thing. She went round deliberately, and opened every window of
her house. The house stoo