lly.

"I suppose the parson has already introduced me," he said, when Mr.
Drummond senior held out his hand, "What a lot of you there are!" he
continued, as he reached Dottie, who, dreadfully frightened at his
size, tried to hide behind Susie. Dottie compared him in her own mind
to one of their favorite giants. "He was so dreadfully like Fee-fo-fum
in 'Jack the Giant-Killer,'" she pouted, when Mattie afterwards took
her to task, "when he kissed me I thought he was going to eat me up."

Mattie's dark little face lit up with shy happiness when she saw him
sit down beside her mother and talk to her in his frank pleasant way.
In her eyes he was nothing less than an angel of light. True, the room
had never looked so small and shabby as it looked to-night, but what
did that matter to Mattie?--the poor little Cinderella in the brown
gown had found her prince. By and by the pumpkin-coach would fetch her
to a grand house, she would have jewels and fine clothes,--everything
that the heart of woman could desire; but it may be doubted if such
thoughts ever crossed Mattie's mind. That he had chosen her, this was
the miracle; that she was never to be scolded, and laughed at, and
teased; that he had stooped to her, this noble, great-hearted man, to
raise her from her humbleness; that he could care for her, in spite of
her plainness and her many faults. No wonder if such happiness almost
beautified Mattie, as she sat a little apart, surrounded by her young
sisters.

Mrs. Drummond's stern face glowed with pleasure when Sir Harry in a
few simple words spoke to her of his pride in winning her daughter.
Could it be her homely, old-fashioned little Mattie of whom he was
speaking, whose unselfishness and goodness he praised so highly! "I
have never known a more beautiful nature: she does not seem to me to
have an unkind thought of any one. All my cousins love her. If you
will trust her to me, I think I can promise, as far as a man can, that
her life shall be a happy one." No wonder if the mother's eyes filled
with joyous tears at such words as these.

"Mattie, dear," said Sir Harry to her the next day, when they found
themselves alone,--a rather difficult thing to achieve in the crowded
household, but Mrs. Drummond had just left the room,--"I have been
talking to your mother. She is a sensible woman, and she thinks in six
weeks everything can be ready. What do you say?"

"If mother thinks so, I suppose she is right," returned Mattie, ve