a soft white cloud floating about her, looped here and there with a
cluster of lilies of the valley. A wreath of the same flowers
fastened her veil; and the sweet face and luminous eyes that gleamed
through its folds seemed just another rare flower.

The formalities and congratulations all over, Mr. and Mrs. Monteith
passed down the walk under the spreading branches to their carriage.

The apple-blossoms showered fragrant blessings on them as they went
their way, and the bridegroom whispered: "Do you remember the first
time you and I came up this hill together?"




VIDA.


There was an audible rustle in the large congregation of St. Paul's
Church, well-bred people though they were, as their young minister
came up the aisle with his bride and seated her in the minister's
pew. They not only turned their heads, giving one slight glance,
seeing all without seeming to, as cultured people know how to do, but
they broke all rules in their code of good manners by a succession of
twistings of the neck. It was not easy to settle down content after
one short look at the beautiful being who glided by the minister's
side. Had he seated a veritable fairy in that pew the sensation could
scarcely have been greater. Her beauty was of that rare blonde
type--hair of spun gold, eyes of sapphire, and complexion fine and
delicate as a rose-leaf. She was youthful and richly dressed, the