t stylish people
you ever saw. They paid me more than this cost, but I wouldn't swap
with them for a thousand dollars to boot."

"No; neither would they change with us for two thousand."

Just as the clock struck nine the door-bell rang and the rector and his
wife were announced. Before Jill could realize what was taking place
she found herself an amazed and helpless spectator in her own house,
for Jim and Bessie stood side by side under the curtains leading to the
library, and the rector was reading the solemn marriage service. By way
of calming her excitement Jack found a chance to whisper to Jill,

"They have been engaged six months."

"You unnatural husband! Why didn't you tell me?"

"Didn't know it myself till this afternoon."

There was no time for further explanations, for the good rector was
saying: "I am sure you will agree with me that building and cherishing
a consecrated home is the noblest work we can do on earth. From such
homes spring all public and private excellence, all patriotic virtues,
all noble charities and philanthropies, all worthy service of God and
man. Whether high or low, rich or poor, in all times and in all places,
domestic life, in its purity and strength, is the safeguard of
individuals and the bulwark of nations. And when, in after years,
other solemn sacraments shall be performed beneath this roof, may it
still be found a sacred temple of peace and love!"

Bessie and Jim kept house in two chambers until a cottage of four
rooms, with an attic and wood-shed, was finished, which happened before
cold weather. Her wedding present from Jack was an express wagon full
of obsolete household utensils. She had learned to make the fire in the
kitchen, and nothing was more acceptable than such a load of dry
kindling wood.

The house that Jill built cost ten thousand dollars. Jim's cost less
than one thousand. Bessie declares that the smaller the house the
greater the happiness it contains. She may be right, but Jill denies
it, and it is never safe to draw general conclusions from special
cases.

CHAPTER XIX.

TEN YEARS AFTER.

Jack, Jr., and his sister Bessie, were building block houses on the
piazza. Jack was pretending to read the evening paper, in reality
watching the builders; and Jill was making no pretense of doing
anything else.

"Really Jack, I think Bessie shows more skill in building than her
brother. Her houses look like realities, and they have more grace and
di