ng in
the most deferential way, it was clear to me that the most efficient
element in the education of the girl had been her intercourse with this
old-time gentlewoman.

"It was seeing those two together," said the Preacher rather shyly, in
my ear, "that attracted me first. I never knew that Youth and Age could
set each other off like that till I saw them. And I saw at once that a
girl who could be such friends with an old lady must be very much worth
while herself. They are great chums, you know--it's quite unusual, I
think. And it's a mighty fine thing for any one to know Grandmother.
I've learned more from Grandmother than from any one I ever knew."

"She's a very rare and adorable old lady," I agreed heartily. "We all
worship her--we all feel that to be near her is a special fortune for
any one. She has plainly grown very fond of Rhodora--she will miss her."

"No doubt of that," he agreed--but, quite naturally, more with triumph
than with sympathy.

We went upstairs presently to make ready for the wedding. When we were
dressed, we met, according to previous agreement, in the big, square,
upper hall, with its spindled railing making a gallery about the quaint
and stately staircase. It was a little too early to go down, and we drew
some high-backed chairs together and sat down to look at one another in
our wedding garments.

"I'd like to get married myself again to-night," declared the Skeptic,
forcibly pulling on his gloves with a man's brutal disregard for the
possible instability of seams. He eyed his wife possessively. "Tell
me--will the Preacher's bride put her in the shade?"

"Don!" But Hepatica's falling lashes could not quite conceal her
pleasure in his pride.

"Not for a minute." The Philosopher's benevolent gaze approved of his
friend's wife from the top of her masses of shining hair to the tip of
her white-shod foot. "At the same time, I don't feel quite such a
dispirited compassion for the Preacher himself as I did on the way down.
Can that possibly be the same girl who treated Grandmother as if she
were an inconvenient, antique family relic, and the rest of us as if she
endured but was horribly bored by us?"

"I have never supposed grandmothers," said the Skeptic thoughtfully, "to
be particularly influential members of society. Evidently ours is
different. But there must have been other elements in the metamorphosis
of Rhodora."

"Miss Eleanor Lockwood's school," suggested Hepatica.

"You men