little cottage, a mile from, the city, was being
prepared for her reception. Mary did not urge the matter, but many an
article of furniture more costly than William was able to purchase
found its way into the cottage, which with its overhanging vines,
climbing roses, and profusion of flowers, seemed just the home for
Jenny Lincoln.

And when the flowers were in full bloom, when the birds sung amid the
trees, and the summer sky was bright and blue, Jenny came to the
cottage, a joyous, loving bride, believing her own husband the best in
the world, and wondering if there was ever any one as happy as
herself. And Jenny was very happy. Blithe as a bee she flitted about
the house and garden, and if in the morning a tear glistened in her
laughing eyes as William bade her adieu, it was quickly dried, and all
day long she busied herself in her household matters, studying some
agreeable surprise for her husband, and trying for his sake to be very
neat and orderly. Then when the clock pointed the hour for his return,
she would station herself at the gate, and William, as he kissed the
moisture from her rosy cheek, thought her a perfect enigma to weep
when he went away, and weep when he came home.

There was no place which Ella loved so well to visit, of where she
seemed so happy, as at the "Cottage," and as she was of but little use
at home, she frequently spent whole weeks with Jenny, becoming
gradually more cheerful,--more like herself, but always insisting that
she should never be married.

The spring following Mary's removal to Boston, Mrs. Mason came down to
the city to live with her adopted daughter, greatly to the delight of
Aunt Martha, whose home was lonelier than it was wont to be, for
George was gone, and Ida too had recently been married to Mr. Elwood,
and removed to Lexington, Kentucky.

And now a glance at Chicopee, and our story is done. Mr. Lincoln's
California adventure had been a successful one, and not long after his
return he received from George Moreland a conveyance of the farm,
which, under Mr. Parker's efficient management, was in a high state of
cultivation. Among the inmates of the poor-house but few changes have
taken place. Miss Grundy, who continues at the helm, has grown
somewhat older and crosser; while Uncle Peter labors industriously at
his new fiddle, the gift of Mary, who is still remembered with much
affection.

Lydia Knight, now a young lady of sixteen, is a pupil at Mount
Holyoke, and M