r a day or two, and then visit the Watermans on the North Shore.
After that they will go at once to the West, where they are to live
on the Major's ranch. He has been relieved from duty at Washington,
and will have all of his time to give to his own affairs.

"There has been an epidemic of weddings. Flippins' Daisy waited
just long enough to help Mrs. Flippin get Miss MacVeigh married;
then she and young John had an imposing ceremony in their church,
with Daisy in a train and white veil, and four bridesmaids, and
Mandy and Calvin in front seats, and Calvin giving the bride away.
I think the elaborateness of it all really reconciled Mandy to her
daughter-in-law."

There was also, from Randy, a long envelope enclosing a thick manuscript
and very short note.

"I want you to read this, Becky. It belongs in a way to you. I
don't know what I think about it. Sometimes it seems as if I had
done a rather big thing, and as if it had been done without me at
all. I wonder if you understand what I mean--as if I had held the
pen, and it had--come---- I have sent it to the editor of one of
the big magazines. Perhaps he will send it back, and it may not
seem as good to me as it does at this moment. Let me know what you
think."

Becky, finishing the letter, felt a bit forlorn. Randy, as a rule, wrote
at length about herself and her affairs. But, of course, he had other
things now to think of. She must not expect too much.

There was no time, however, in which to read the manuscript, for Cope
was saying, wistfully, "Do you think you'd mind a walk in the rain?"

"No." She gathered up her letters.

"Then we'll walk across the Common."

They shared one umbrella. And they played that it was over fifty years
ago when the Autocrat had walked with the young Schoolmistress. They
even walked arm in arm under the umbrella. They took the long path to
Boylston Street. And Cope said, "Will you take the long path with me?"

And Becky said, "Certainly."

And they both laughed. But there was no laughter in Cope's heart.

"Becky," he said, "I wish that you and I had lived a century ago in
Louisberg Square."

"If we had lived then, we shouldn't be living now."

"But we should have had our--happiness----"

"And I should have worn lovely flowing silk skirts. Not short things
like this, and little bonnets with flowers inside, and velvet
mantles----"