how anxious he was that she should make a good first
impression upon his mother. Did Katy remember that Mrs. Morey whom they
met at Paris, and could she not throw a little of her air into her
manner--that is, could she not drop her girlishness when in the presence
of others and be a little more dignified? When alone with him he liked
to have her just what she was, a loving, affectionate little wife, but
the world looked on such things differently. Would Katy try?

Wilford, when he commenced, had no definite idea as to what he should
say, and without meaning it he made Katy moan piteously:

"I don't know what you mean. I would do anything if I knew how. Tell me,
how shall I be dignified?"

She was crying so hard that Wilford, while mentally calling himself a
fool and a brute, could only try to comfort her, telling her she need
not be anything but what she was--that his mother and sisters would love
her just as he did--and that daily association with them would teach her
all that was necessary.

Katy's tears were stopped at last; but the frightened, anxious look did
not leave her face, even though Wilford tried his best to divert her
mind. A nervous terror of her new relations had gained possession of her
heart, and nearly the entire night she lay awake, pondering in her mind
what Wilford had said, and thinking how terrible it would be if he
should be disappointed in her after all. The consequence of this was
that a very white, tired face sat opposite Wilford next morning at the
breakfast served in their private parlor; nor did it look much fresher
even after they were in the cars and rolling out of Boston. But when
Worcester was reached, and the old home waymarks began to grow familiar,
the color came stealing back, until the cheeks burned with an unnatural
red, and the blue eyes fairly danced as they rested on the hills of
Silverton.

"Only three miles from mother and Helen! Oh, if I could go there!" Katy
thought, working her fingers nervously; but the express train did not
pause there, and it went so swiftly by the depot that Katy could hardly
discover who was standing there, whether friend or stranger.

But when at last they came to West Silverton, and the long train slowly
stopped, the first object she saw was Dr. Morris, driving down from the
village. He had no intention of going to the depot, and only checked his
horse a moment, lest it should prove restive if too near the engine; but
when a clear young voic