e
pledged herself to "love, honor, and obey." Mr. Travilla's promise "to
love, honor, and cherish to life's end," was given no less earnestly and
emphatically.

The deed was done; and relatives and friends gathered about them with
kindly salutations and good wishes.

Mr. Dinsmore was the first to salute the bride. "God bless and keep you,
my daughter," were his tenderly whispered words.

"Dear, dear papa," was all she said in response, but her eyes spoke
volumes. "I am yours still, your very own, and glad it is so," they said.

Then came Rose with her tender, silent caress, half-sorrowful,
half-joyful, and Mrs. Travilla with her altogether joyous salutation, "My
dear daughter, may your cup of happiness be ever filled to overflowing;"
while Mr. Dinsmore to hide his emotion turned jocosely to Travilla with a
hearty shake of the hand, and "I wish you joy, my son."

"Thank you, father," returned the groom gravely, but with a twinkle of
merriment in his eye.

Aunt Wealthy, standing close by awaiting her turn to greet the bride,
shook her head at her nephew. "Ah, you are quite too old for that, Horace.
Mr. Vanilla, I wish you joy; but what am I to call you now?"

"Edward, if you please, Aunt Wealthy."

"Ah, yes, that will do nicely; it's a good name--so easily forgotten.
Elsie, dearie, you went through it brave as a lion. May you never wish
you'd lived your lane like your auld auntie."

"As if single blessedness could ever be real blessedness!" sneered Enna,
coming up just in time to catch the last words.

"Our feelings change as we grow older," returned Miss Stanhope, in her
gentle, refined tones, "and we come to look upon quiet and freedom from
care as very desirable things."

"And I venture to say that old age is not likely to find Mrs. Percival so
happy and contented as is my dear old maiden aunt," remarked Mr. Dinsmore.

"Yet we will hope it may, papa," said Elsie, receiving Enna's salutation
with kindly warmth.

But the list of relatives, near connections, and intimate friends, is too
long for particular mention of each. All the Dinsmores were there, both
married and single; also most of the Allisons. Harold had not come with
the others, nor had he either accepted or rejected the invitation.

On first raising her eyes upon the conclusion of the ceremony, had Elsie
really seen, far back in the shadow of the doorway, a face white, rigid,
hopeless with misery as his when last they met and parted? She could