uickly; and
a hundred other things equally meddlesome and silly. But nobody so
disapproved of the match that he stayed away from the wedding, which was
the largest and the gayest wedding Welbury had ever seen. It went sorely
against the grain with Hetty to invite Mrs. Deacon Little, but Sally
entreated for it so earnestly that she gave way.

"I think if she once sees me with Raby in my arms, may be she'll feel
kinder," said Sally. James Little had carried the beautiful boy, and
laid him in his grandmother's arms many times; but, although she showed
great tenderness toward the child, she had never yet made any allusion
to Sally; and James, who had the same odd combination of weakness and
tenacity which his mother had, had never broken the resolution which
he had taken years ago: not to mention his wife's name in his mother's
presence. Mrs. Little had almost as great a struggle with herself before
accepting the invitation, as Hetty had had before giving it. Only her
husband's earnest remonstrances decided her wavering will.

"It's only once, Mrs. Little," he said, "and there'll be such a crowd
there that very likely you won't come near Sally at all. It don't look
right for you to stay away. You don't know how much folks think of Sally
now. She's been asked to the minister's to tea, she and James, with
Hetty and the doctor, several times."

"She hain't, has she?" exclaimed Mrs. Little, quite thrown off her
balance by this unexpected piece of news, which the wary deacon had been
holding in reserve, as a good general holds his biggest guns, for some
special occasion. "You don't tell me so! Well, well, folks must do as
they like. For my part, I call that downright countenancing of iniquity.
And I don't know how she could have the face to go, either. I must say,
I have some curiosity to see how she behaves among folks."

"She's as modest and pretty in her ways as ever a girl could be,"
replied the deacon, who had learned during the past year to love his
son's wife; "you won't have any call to be ashamed of her. I can tell
you that much beforehand."

When Mrs. Little's eyes first fell upon her daughter-in-law, she gave
an involuntary start. In the two years during which Mrs. Little had not
seen her, Sally had changed from a timid, nervous, restless woman to a
calm and dignified one. Very much of her old girlish beauty had returned
to her, with an added sweetness from her sorrow. As she moved among the
guests, speaking with