ate groups and faces. Mrs. Hemphill, in the midst of her little
brood, shook the gingham skirts of the baby in her arms, and old Mother
Flaherty waggled her wide Irish border and waved her cane, in utter
abandon. Dan and Rachel, standing together, looked fairly radiant; even
Marie was there on her tricycle, with Babette and Gus keeping guard over
her, while Lucy's children, crowding near, were shouting themselves
hoarse. Every one was on hand. Close by, the cobbler, having somewhere
picked up a shoe to mend, waved it frantically by its leather string.
Joyce's own carriage, with Gilbert proudly controlling the restive
horses, was drawn up beside the platform, and on its seat, reckless of
danger, stood Camille waving the dust-cloth in utter forgetfulness of
what she had in her hand. In close proximity stood Dorette, and by Dr.
Browne's side, in his shambling old buggy, sat Madame Bonnivel,
directing the demonstrations of Dodo, on her lap. Nate looked at Lucy an
instant.

"Say, child," he said in a hesitant tone, "it's a shame to think I'm
nobody but just Nate, when they've made such a fuss! Be we goin' to git
married, or ain't we? I s'pose we ought to, if I'm goin' to look after
you and the babbies, and it seems as if 'twould sorter pay 'em for their
trouble if we'd let 'em know it, or something. Folks allays likes to
hear about weddin's. Say, why don't we just go along and git married
right now? Might as well, and then they'd sure be satisfied. I see the
preacher a-standin' there, clost to thet ole maid of Miss Lav'lotte's,
and if you say so--"

"But, Nate, I ain't dressed up! That is, not bridy, you know."

He looked down at her--such a mite in her black swathings!--and smiled.

"You ain't nothin' but a child, Lucy, and I'll have to be husband and
father, both. But I'll look after you close, dear, and be good to the
babbies. Come, I guess we'd better. Your clo'es is all right."

Waves of cheers greeted Nate as he stepped outside, with Lucy in tow.
The crowd surged forward toward the platform, but he waved them back.

"Hello, boys!" he cried, raising his voice. "This is nice of you, but
jest hold up a minute, please. We're goin' to have a weddin'--Lucy and
me--'fore we all go home. Come, Lucy!"

He caught her hand in a firmer grip, and struggled toward the minister,
his countenance strong in its intensity of purpose. Lucy's blossom face,
that had been growing rounder and rosier every day, shone out like a
vision o