to love that Eden house. Why
don't you come down and see it, Joyce?"

"Oh, I'll come some day--I hope," said Joyce lightly. "I think I'd
rather not see it until it is finished."

"Willard is a nice boy," said Miss Sally suddenly. "I don't think I
ever did him justice before. The finer qualities of his character come
out in these simple, homely little doings and tasks. He is certainly
very thoughtful and kind. Oh, I suppose he'll make a good husband, as
husbands go. But he doesn't know the first thing about managing. If
his wife isn't a good manager, I don't know what they'll do. And
perhaps she won't like the way we've done up Eden. Willard says she
will, of course, because he thinks her perfection. But she may have
dreadful taste and want the lace curtains and that nightmare of a pink
rug Willard admired, and I dare say she'd rather have a new flaunting
set of china with rosebuds on it than that dear old dull blue I picked
up for a mere song down at the Aldenbury auction. I stood in the rain
for two mortal hours to make sure of it, and it was really worth all
that Willard has spent on the dining room put together. It will break
my heart if she sets to work altering Eden. It's simply perfect as it
is--though I suppose I shouldn't say it."

* * * * *

In another week Eden was finished. Miss Sally stood in the tiny hall
and looked about her.

"Well, it is done," she said with a sigh. "I'm sorry. I have enjoyed
fixing it up tremendously, and now I feel that my occupation is gone.
I hope you are satisfied, Willard."

"Satisfied is too mild a word, Miss Sally. I am delighted. I knew you
could accomplish wonders, but I never hoped for _this_. Eden is a
dream--the dearest, quaintest, sweetest little home that ever waited
for a bride. When I bring her here--oh, Miss Sally, do you know what
that thought means to me?"

Miss Sally looked curiously at the young man. His face was flushed and
his voice trembled a little. There was a far-away shining look in his
eyes as if he saw a vision.

"I hope you and she will be happy," said Miss Sally slowly. "When will
she be coming, Willard?"

The flush went out of Willard's face, leaving it pale and determined.

"That is for her--and you--to say," he answered steadily.

"Me!" exclaimed Miss Sally. "What have I to do with it?"

"A great deal--for unless you consent she will never come here at
all."

"Willard Stanley," said Miss Sally, with omin