this; we had just come home from our wedding journey, and she had brought
this slip from her mother's garden in Virginia. But dear me, I suppose
I've told you that a dozen times. What? How to-day brings back that trip
of ours! We came through Lockhaven, but it was by stage-coach. I remember
we thought we were so fortunate because the other two passengers got out
there, and we had the coach to ourselves. Your mother had a striped
ribbon, or gauze,--I don't know what you call it,--on her bonnet, and it
kept blowing out of the window of the coach, like a little flag. You
young people can go further in less time, when you travel, but you will
never know the charm of staging it through the mountains. I declare, I
haven't thought of it for years, but to-day brings it all back to me!"

They had reached the rectory porch, and Dr. Howe settled himself in his
wicker chair and lighted his cigar, while Lois sat down on the steps, and
began to dig small holes in the gravel with the stick her father had
resigned to her.

The flood of soft lamplight from the open hall door threw the portly
figure of the rector into full relief, and, touching Lois's head, as she
sat in the shadow at the foot of the steps, with a faint aureole, fell in
a broad bright square on the lawn in front of the house. They had begun
to speak again of the wedding, when the click of the gate latch and the
swinging glimmer of a lantern through the lilacs and syringas warned them
that some one was coming, and in another moment the Misses Woodhouse
and their nephew stepped across the square of light.

Miss Deborah and Miss Ruth were quite unconscious that they gave the
impression of carrying Gifford about with them, rather than of being
supported by him, for each little lady had passed a determined arm
through one of his, and instead of letting her small hand, incased in its