"Mr. Milburn," he said, extending his hand, "I hope to congratulate,
after this ceremony, a Christian-hearted bridegroom, and one who will
take the rare charge which has fallen to him, in tender keeping. My
endeavor shall be to love you, sir, if you will let me! Miss Vesta is
the priestess of Princess Anne, and if you take her from our sight and
hearing, even God's ministrations in this church will seem hollow, I
fear."

"To me they would," said Milburn, "though from no disrespect to our
pastor."

"You have been a faithful parishioner," resumed Tilghman, "during my
brief labor here, as in my boyhood, when I little dreamed I should fill
that desk. You know, perhaps, that it was from the hopeless love of my
cousin Custis, I fled to God for consolation, and he made me his humble
minister."

"I have heard so," said Milburn; "or, rather, I have seen so."

"Pardon my mentioning a subject so irrelevant to you, sir, but, though I
have surrendered every vain emotion for my cousin, her happiness is a
part of my religion, and this sudden conclusion of her marriage, about
which I have asked only one question, has urged me to throw myself upon
your sympathy."

"What do you ask, William Tilghman? No matter--your request is granted."

"How have I won your favor?" the young rector asked, somewhat surprised.

Milburn mechanically picked his hat from a pew, and held it a little way
up.

"You were the only boy in this village who never cried after this hat."

"Then it was probably overlooked by me. I was like the other boys,
mischievous, before my spirits had been depressed by unhappy love, and I
did not know I was any exception to their habits."

"It was grateful to see that exception," said Milburn; "hooted people
make fine distinctions."

"Oh, Mr. Milburn, forgive the boys! They are made for laughter, and
little causes excite it, like dogs to bark, from health and
exercise--scarcely more than that. The request I make is to let me be
your friend, because I have been your wife's! Frankness becomes my
calling, and I think you need friendly, cordial surroundings to bring
out your usefulness, and give you the freedom that will take constraint
out of your family life, and, without diminishing your good
sensibilities, dispel any morbid ones. This will open a way for Vesta to
see her domestic career, which, otherwise, might become so rapidly
contracted as to disappoint you both. You have seen her the idol of her
wide circle, free