sted
robin.

Susanna was like a New England anemone. Her face was oval in shape and
as smooth and pale as a pearl. Her hair was dark, not very heavy, and as
soft as a child's. Her lips were delicate and sensitive, her eyes a cool
gray,--clear, steady, and shaded by darker lashes. When John Hathaway
met her shy, maidenly glance and heard her pretty, dovelike voice, it
is strange he did not see that there was a bit too much saint in her to
make her a willing comrade of his gay, roistering life. But as a matter
of fact, John Hathaway saw nothing at all; nothing but that Susanna
Nelson was a lovely girl and he wanted her for his own. The type was
one he had never met before, one that allured him by its mysteries and
piqued him by its shy aloofness.

John had "a way with him," a way that speedily won Susanna; and after
all there was a best to him as well as a worst. He had a twinkling
eye, an infectious laugh, a sweet disposition, and while he was
over-susceptible to the charm of a pretty face, he had a chivalrous
admiration for all women, coupled, it must be confessed, with a decided
lack of discrimination in values. His boyish lightheartedness had a
charm for everybody, including Susanna; a charm that lasted until she
discovered that his heart was light not only when it ought to be light,
but when it ought to be heavy. He was very much in love with her,
but there was nothing particularly exclusive, unique, individual, or
interesting about his passion at that time. It was of the everyday sort
which carries a well-meaning man to the altar, and sometimes, in cases
of exceptional fervor and duration, even a little farther. Stock sizes
of this article are common and inexpensive, and John Hathaway's love
when he married Susanna was, judged by the highest standards, about
as trivial an affair as Cupid ever put upon the market or a man ever
offered to a woman. Susanna on the same day offered John, or the wooden
idol she was worshiping as John, her whole self--mind, body, heart,
and spirit. So the couple were united, and smilingly signed the
marriage-register, a rite by which their love for each other was
supposed to be made eternal.

"Will you love me?" said he.
"Will you love me?" said she.
Then they answered together:
"Through foul and fair weather,
From sunrise to moonrise,
From moonrise to sunrise,
By heath and by harbour,
In orchard or arbour,
In the time of the rose,
In the time of the snows,