replied. "You have been
fortunate enough to marry me."

"Oh, I see!" she cried, dropping me a little curtsey; "and I thank you
kindly!"

The letter was from an old friend of mine--a school-mate--and it was an
invitation to Sophia, begging her to take a day off, as the saying is,
and spend it in Shady Dale.

"Your children," the letter said, "will be glad to visit their father's
old home, and I doubt not we can make it interesting for the wife." The
letter closed with some prettily turned compliments which rather caught
Sophia. But her suspicions were still in full play.

"I know the invitation is sent on your account, and not on mine," she
said, holding the letter at arm's length.

"Well, why not? If my old friend loves me well enough to be anxious to
give my wife and children pleasure, what is there wrong about that?"

"Oh, nothing," replied Sophia. "I've a great mind to go."

"If you do, my dear, you will make a number of people happy--yourself
and the children, and many of my old friends."

"He declares," said Sophia, "that he writes at the request of his wife.
You know how much of that to believe."

"I certainly do. Imagine me, for instance, inviting to visit us a lady
whom you had never met."

Whereupon Sophia laughed. "I believe you'd endorse any proposition that
came from Shady Dale," she declared.

She accepted the invitation more out of curiosity than with any
expectation of enjoying herself; but she stayed longer than she had
intended; and when she came back her views and feelings had undergone a
complete change. "Cephas, you ought to be ashamed of yourself for not
going to see those people," she declared. "Why, they are the salt of the
earth. I never expected to be treated as they treated me. If it wasn't
for your business, I would beg you to go back there and live. They are
just like the people you read about in the books--I mean the good
people, the ideal characters--the men and women you would like to meet."
Here she paused and sighed. "Oh, I wouldn't have missed that visit for
anything. But what amazes me, Cephas, is that you've never put in your
books characters such as you find in Shady Dale."

The suggestion was a fertile one; it had in it the active principle of a
germ; and it was not long before the ferment began to make itself felt.
The past began to renew itself; the sun shone on the old days and gave
them an illumination which they lacked when they were new. Time's
perspective gave