, you have made them happy enough for to-day, at any rate," said
Elisabeth, as she looked up at him with gratitude and admiration. "I saw
them all when they were starting, and there wasn't one face among them
that hadn't joy written on every feature in capital letters."

"Then in that case they won't be troubling their minds to-day about
their religion; they will save it for the gloomy days, as we save
narcotics for times of pain. You may depend upon that."

"I'm not so sure: their religion is more of a reality to them than you
think," Elisabeth replied.

While Alan was thus, enjoying himself in his own fashion, his guests
were enjoying themselves in theirs; and as they drove through summer's
fairyland, they, too, talked by the way.

"Eh! but the May-blossom's a pretty sight," exclaimed Caleb Bateson, as
the big wagonettes rolled along the country roads. "I never saw it finer
than it is this year--not in all the years I've lived in Mershire; and
Mershire's the land for May-blossom."

"It do look pretty," agreed his wife. "I only wish Lucy Ellen was here
to see it; she was always a one for the May-blossom. Why, when she was
ever such a little girl she'd come home carrying branches of it bigger
than herself, till she looked like nothing but a walking May-pole."

"Poor thing!" said Mrs. Hankey, who happened to be driving in the same
vehicle as the Batesons, "she'll be feeling sad and homesick to see it
all again, I'll be bound."

Lucy Ellen's mother laughed contentedly. "Folks haven't time to feel
homesick when they've got a husband to look after; he soon takes the
place of May-blossom, bless you!"

"You're in luck to see all your children married and settled before the
Lord has been pleased to take you," remarked Mrs. Hankey, with envy in
her voice.

"Well, I'm glad for the two lads to have somebody to look after them,
I'm bound to say; I feel now as they've some one to air their shirts
when I'm not there, for you never can trust a man to look after
himself--never. Men have no sense to know what is good for 'em and what
is bad for 'em, poor things! But Lucy Ellen is a different thing. Of
course I'm pleased for her to have a home of her own, and such nice
furniture as she's got, too, and in such a good circuit; but when your
daughter is married you don't see her as often as you want to, and it is
no good pretending as you do."

"That's true," agreed Caleb Bateson, with a big sigh; "and I never cease
to miss my