horse, he had you up in front of his saddle, and
uncle called out, 'Good morning, little Colonel.'"

These reminiscences pleased Lloyd. It flattered her to think he
remembered these early meetings so many years ago. His relationship to
the old doctor whom she loved as her own uncle put him on a very
friendly footing.

The church filled rapidly, and by the time the seats were crowded and
people were jostling each other to find standing-room around the door, a
young colored girl in a ruffled yellow dress seated herself at the
organ. First she pulled out all the stops, then adjusting a pair of
eyeglasses, opened a book of organ exercises. Then she felt her sash in
the back, settled her side-combs, and raising herself from the organ
bench, smoothed her skirts into proper folds under her. After these
preliminaries she leaned back, raised both hands with a grand flourish,
and swooped down on the keys.

"Bang on the low notes and twiddle on the high!" laughed Lloyd, under
her breath. "Listen, Mistah Shelby. She's playing the same chord in the
bass straight through."

"Is that what makes the fearsome discord?" he asked. "It makes me think
of an epitaph I once saw carved on a pretentious headstone in a little
village cemetery:

"'Here lies one
Who never let her left hand know
What her right hand done.'"

"Neithah of Laura's hands will evah find out what the othah one is
trying to do," whispered Lloyd. "She is supposed to be playing the
wedding-march. Hark! There is a familiah note: '_Heah comes the bride_.'
They must be at the doah. Well, I wish you'd look!"

Every head was turned, for the bridal party was advancing. Slowly down
the aisle came M'haley, in the pink chiffon gown from Paris. Mom Beck's
quick needle had altered it considerably, for in some unaccountable way
the slim bodice fashioned to fit Lloyd's slender figure, now fastened
around M'haley's waist without undue strain. The skirt, though turned
"hine side befo'," fell as skirts should fall, for the fulness had been
shifted to the proper places, and the broad sky-blue sash covered the
mended holes in the breadth Lloyd had torn on the stairs.

With her head high, and her armful of flowers held in precisely the same
position in which Lloyd had carried hers, she swept down the aisle in
such exact imitation of the other maid of honor, that every one who had
seen the first wedding was convulsed, and Kitty's whisper about "Lloyd's