ind him at New York. She had not expected to see him again
till the summer-time. She looked very fair and sweet in her delicate
white dress, but was utterly unconscious of the admiration she was
creating; and of the close observation of a pair of dark earnest
eyes, which had been the first gleam of comfort to her when her
mother died.

By-and-by, old white-haired Dr. Goldthwaite came in with Carrie on
his arm, and they took their places silently; and in a very few
minutes Frank had uttered the irrevocable words, and the wedding was
over. Then Mr. and Mrs. George Keane received abundant
congratulations, and they adjourned to partake of breakfast. In the
hall stood a quantity of baggage labelled "Mrs. Keane," which seemed
very formidable, but was not much after all, considering the
travellers were going to Europe. Yes; the young pair were to have a
six months' tour before settling down at Pendlepoint, and some felt
as if Carrie were going away for ever. She looked very grave and sad;
and when she came down ready to go, broke down utterly bidding her
mother good-bye.

"Now then, this will never do," said Judge Keane, with that comical
smile of his. "George, get your wife into the carriage, or we shall
have her rueing she ever promised to follow you."

Carrie smiled through her tears, and shook her finger at the judge.
Then, as she turned to go, a light touch fell upon her arm, and a low
voice whispered tremulously,--

"May God bless you all your life, Mrs. Keane."

It was Lucy, her great eyes shining with unspeakable love and
tenderness.

"Never Mrs. Keane to you, Lucy, my pet," she whispered back. "Carrie
always, and always. Write to me."

Then she was hurried out to the carriage, forgetting in the
excitement of the moment that she possessed no address to give. The
door closed upon them, the coachman sprang to the box, and the next
moment they were gone. They had embarked together on the sea of life,
and the voyage bade fair to be a happy and prosperous one.

"I don't like weddings," said Judge Keane discontentedly. "They are
miserable, heart-breaking things at the best."

"Time was when you did not think so, judge," said the doctor, with a
twinkle in his eye.--"Eh, little one?"

It was Lucy whom the doctor addressed, and she answered timidly, "It
is very sad to give away those we love, as you have done to-day,
sir."

"Wait till somebody wants to take you away, my lady," laughed the
judge. "There'll be an