ully
wholesome. The gathering suggested nothing so much as simple human
nature dipped well in the purifying soap-suds of sympathy, rubbed out
on the washing board of religious emotion, and ironed and goffered to
a proper sheen of wholesome curiosity. They were assembled there to
witness the launching of a sister's bark upon the matrimonial waters,
and in each and every woman's mind there were thoughts picturing
themselves in a similar position. The married women reflected on past
scenes, while the maids among them possibly contemplated the time when
that ceremonial would be performed with them as the central interest.

The happiness was not all Eve's, it was probably shared by the
majority of the women present. She was the object that conjured their
minds from the dull monotony of their daily routine to realms of
happy fancy. And the picture was drawn in a setting of Romance, with
Love well in the foreground, and the guardian angel of Perfect
Happiness hovering over all. No doubt somewhere in the picture a man
was skulking, but even in the light of matrimonial experience this was
not sufficient to spoil the full enjoyment of those moments.

The bridegroom arrived. Yes, he was certainly good-looking in his new
suit from "down East." Dressed as he was he did not belong to
Barnriff. He looked what he had been brought up, of an altogether
different class to the folks gathered in the room.

One or two of the matrons shook their heads. They did not altogether
approve of him. He was well enough known for a certain unsteadiness;
then, too, there was a boyishness about his look, an irresponsibility
which was not general among the hard features of the men they knew.
Most of these thought that Eve was rather throwing herself away. They
all believed that she would have done far better to have chosen Jim
Thorpe.

Then came the bride, and necks craned and skirts rustled, and audible
whisperings were in the air. Annie Gay, following behind, heard and
saw, and a thrill of delight brought tears to her sympathetic eyes.
She knew how pretty Eve was. Had she not dressed her? Had she not
feasted her eyes on her all the morning? Had she not been a prey to a
good honest feminine envy?

And Eve's dress was almost as pretty as herself. There were just a few
touches of a delicate pink on the white lawn to match her own warmth
of coloring. Her gentle eyes were lowered modestly as she walked
through the crowd, but if their pretty brown was h