nnocence, that curious
outbreak of my aunt's superstition produced a certain uneasy sensation
in my mind. It was a consolation to me to feel the reassuring pressure
of my husband's hand. It was an indescribable relief to hear my uncle's
hearty voice wishing me a happy life at parting. The good man had left
his north-country Vicarage (my home since the death of my parents)
expressly to read the service at my marriage; and he and my aunt had
arranged to return by the mid-day train. He folded me in his great
strong arms, and he gave me a kiss which must certainly have been heard
by the idlers waiting for the bride and bridegroom outside the church
door.

"I wish you health and happiness, my love, with all my heart. You are
old enough to choose for yourself, and--no offense, Mr. Woodville, you
and I are new friends--and I pray God, Valeria, it may turn out that
you have chosen well. Our house will be dreary enough without you; but
I don't complain, my dear. On the contrary, if this change in your life
makes you happier, I rejoice. Come, come! don't cry, or you will set
your aunt off--and it's no joke at her time of life. Besides, crying
will spoil your beauty. Dry your eyes and look in the glass there, and
you will see that I am right. Good-by, child--and God bless you!"

He tucked my aunt under his arm, and hurried out. My heart sank a
little, dearly as I loved my husband, when I had seen the last of the
true friend and protector of my maiden days.

The parting with old Benjamin came next. "I wish you well, my dear;
don't forget me," was all he said. But the old days at home came back
on me at those few words. Benjamin always dined with us on Sundays in my
father's time, and always brought some little present with him for his
master's child. I was very near to "spoiling my beauty" (as my uncle had
put it) when I offered the old man my cheek to kiss, and heard him sigh
to himself, as if he too were not quite hopeful about my future life.

My husband's voice roused me, and turned my mind to happier thoughts.

"Shall we go, Valeria?" he asked.

I stopped him on our way out to take advantage of my uncle's advice; in
other words, to see how I looked in the glass over the vestry fireplace.

What does the glass show me?

The glass shows a tall and slender young woman of three-and-twenty years
of age. She is not at all the sort of person who attracts attention in
the street, seeing that she fails to exhibit the popular yel