tears flowed fast again, but he let them
fall ungrudged,--"find in your music and your noble mind forgetfulness
of this unworthy marriage. I can live in the recollection of the
blessing you have been to me."

"What!" said Vesta; "do you command me to leave you?"

"Yes. Let it be that. I know how conscientious you are, my darling, but
it is your duty to go. A hard struggle is before me: I am deeply
embarked in an untried business. Now I can spare the money. Go and find
happiness in a happier land."

She went to him again and put her arms around him.

"Leave you?" she said. "What have I done to be driven away? How could I
reconcile myself to let you live alone? 'For better or for worse,' I
said. God has made it better and better every day."

He held her head between his palms and looked into her eyes, to see if
she spoke from the heart.

"Husband," she whispered, "I love you."

* * * * *

The minds of both husband and wife, after this reconcilement, turned to
the disturbing hat as the subject of their estrangement hitherto.

Said Milburn to himself: "What a sinner I have been to distress that
poor child with my miserable hat! At the first opportunity she gives me,
I will lay it aside forever."

Said Vesta to her father and his bride: "What a wicked heart I have
kept, to oppose my husband in such a little thing as his good old
hat--the badge of his reverence to his family and of his bravery to an
impertinent age. I have let it discolor my married life and all the
sunshine. But my baby has melted my obdurate heart. Come, unite with me,
and let us show him that everything he wears we will adopt proudly."

Therefore, when Milburn next went out, his wife came with a beaming face
and elastic step and put on his head his steeple hat. He looked at her
grimly, but she stopped his protest with a kiss.

He thought to introduce the subject to Judge Custis, but that fond
bridegroom broke in with:

"Milburn, you're a game fellow. It was impudent in me to say one word
about your hat. I'll get one like it myself if I can find one. Tut, tut,
man! It becomes you. Say no more about it."

Milburn undertook to make the explanation to his niece, but before he
could well begin she cried:

"Uncle Meshach, Aunt Vesta is just in love with your hat! She won't hear
of your wearing any other. We're all going to stand by it, uncle."

A man chooses his own verdict by a long course of behavior; austerit