uld have me find?"

"Find the month of June's dear roses,
Find a trellis and a vine;
Ask your heart, my queenly darling,
If the sun will on us shine,
And my heart, love's waiting trellis,
Then receive its clinging vine.
Have I spoken well and truly?
Does your soul like mine decide?
And, with June's dear wealth of roses,
Shall I claim you for a bride?
Do the old hills answer, darling?
Unto me they seem to say:
'Two young hearts in truth have waited;
Emily may name the day.'"

As the words of his impromptu verse died away, the moon, looking through
the rifted clouds, beamed an affirmation, and I said:

"Let June be the month, Louis; the day shall name itself."

Clara called: "It is nine o'clock, my dear ones;" and we said "good
night."

CHAPTER XVIII.

EMILY'S MARRIAGE.

Louis' birthday came on the 24th of June, and it seemed very appropriate
to me that this should be the day of our wedding, and, as I said to him;
the day named itself, and it also came on Sunday. I had no thought of
being married in the old church, but Louis was positive that it would be
best.

"You know," he said, "that all these good people around us feel an
interest very natural to those who are acquainted with everybody in
their own little town. They will enjoy our marriage in the church where
all can come and none be slighted, and the evening after they can be
invited to call on us at home."

"Oh, Louis!" I said, "I would much rather go quietly over to Mr.
Davis'."

"Yes, Emily," he replied, "to take one of our pleasant walks over the
hill and step in there; but after all I can see how it will be wiser for
us not to be selfish in this matter. Never mind how we feel: these
friends of ours are of much account, and the many new thoughts that
brighten their existence as well as our own must fall, I believe, on us
as a people as well as individually. A private wedding will cause unkind
remarks, and perhaps unpleasant feelings, and idle conjectures may grow
to be stern realities. Let us avoid all this, and as we have heretofore
been among them, let us still keep our vessel close to the shore of
their understanding, though we may often drift out into the ocean unseen
by them, and gather to ourselves the pearls of new and strengthening
thought 'Let him who would be chief among you be your servant.' Do you
understand me?"

"I do, Louis, and 'Emily will do it,' for she knows y