rney South in the General's private car. As she
entered the carriage, I saw that she wore a white dress under her long
black cloak.

"Mammy wouldn't let me be married in black," she said; "she says it
means death or a bad husband."

"Dar ain' gwine be a bad husband fur dish yer chile," grumbled the old
woman, who was evidently full of gloomy forebodings, "caze she ain'
built wid de kinder spine, suh, dat bends easy."

"There'll be nobody at church?" asked Sally.

"Only the General, and I suppose the sexton."

"I am glad." She leaned forward, we clasped hands, and I saw that the
eyes she lifted to mine were starry and expectant, as they had been that
day, so many years ago, when she stood between the gate and the bed of
geraniums in the General's yard.

The carriage rolled softly over the soaking streets, and above the sound
of the wheels I heard the patter of the rain on the dead leaves in the
gutters. I can see still a wet sparrow or two that fluttered down from
the bared branches, and the negro maid sweeping the water from the steps
in front of the doctor's house. There was no wind, and the rain fell in
straight elongated drops like a shower of silvery pine-needles. The
mixture of a fighter and a dreamer! On my wedding-day, as I sat beside
the woman I loved, approaching the fulfilment of my desire, I was
conscious of a curious gravity, of almost a feeling of sadness. The
stillness without, intensified by the slow, soft fall of the rain on the
dead leaves, seemed not detached, but at one with the inner stillness
which possessed alike my heart and my brain. I, the man of action, the
embodiment of worldly success, was awed by the very intensity of my
love, which added a throb of apprehension to the supreme moment of its
fulfilment.

The carriage crawled up the long hill, and stopped before the steps
leading to the churchyard of Saint John's. Like a sombre omen up went
the umbrella in the hands of Aunt Euphronasia; and as I led Sally across
the pavement to the General, who stood waiting under the dripping maples
and sycamores, I saw that she was very pale, and that her lips trembled
when she smiled back at me. With her arm in the General's, she passed
before me up the walk to the church door, while Aunt Euphronasia and I
followed under the same umbrella a short way behind.

At the door the minister met us with outstretched hands, for he had
known us from childhood; and when Aunt Euphronasia had removed the
bride