ade reply to that questioning, as she
waited till the last faint sound of Mark Ray's bells died away in the
distance, and then shivering with cold re-entered the farmhouse.

CHAPTER XLVI.

AFTER CHRISTMAS EVE.

Merrily rang the bells next day, the sexton deeming it his duty to send
forth a merry peal in honor of the bride whose husband had remembered
his boy so liberally. But Helen's heart was very sad as she met the
smiling faces of her friends, and Mark had never been prayed for more
earnestly than on that Christmas morning, when Helen knelt at the altar
rail and received the sacred symbols of a Savior's dying love, asking
that God would keep the soldier husband, hastening on to New York, and
from thence to Washington. Much the Silvertonians discussed the wedding,
nor were these discussions likely to be shortened by the arrival of
Mattie Tubbs and Tom, who came by the express from New York, both
surprised at what they heard, and both loud in their praises of Captain
Ray, "the best and kindest man that ever lived," Tom said, while Mattie
told fabulous stories of his wealth. Had Helen been the queen she could
hardly have been stared at more curiously than she was that Christmas
day, when late in the afternoon she drove through the town with Katy,
the villagers looking admiringly after her, noting the tie of her
bonnet, the arrangement of her face trimmings, and discovering in both a
style and fitness they had never discovered before. As the wife of Mark
Ray Helen became suddenly a heroine, in whose presence poor Katy
subsided completely, nor was the interest at all diminished when two
days later Mrs. Banker came to Silverton and was met at the depot by
Helen, whom she hugged affectionately, calling her "my dear daughter,"
and holding her hand all the way to the covered sleigh waiting there for
her. Further than that the curious ones could not follow, and so they
did not know how on the road to the farmhouse Mrs. Banker expressed her
approbation of what her boy had done, acknowledged her own unjust
suspicions, asking pardon for them, and receiving it in the warm kiss
Helen pressed upon her offered hand. Mrs. Banker was very fond of Helen,
and not even the sight of the farmhouse, with its unpolished inmates,
awakened a feeling of regret that her only son had not looked higher for
a wife. She was satisfied with her new daughter, and insisted upon
taking her back to New York.

"I am very lonely now, lonelier tha