sounded the clock, and then he fell asleep, dreaming that underneath
the willows which grew in the churchyard, far off on Laurel Hill,
there were two graves instead of one; that in the house across the
common there was a sound of rioting and mirth, unusual in that
silent mansion. For she was there, the woman whom he had so madly
loved, and wherever she went crowds gathered about her as in the
olden time.

"Maude Glendower, why are you here?" he attempted to say, when a
clear, silvery voice aroused him from his sleep, and starting up, he
listened half in anger, half in disappointment, to the song which
little Maude Remington sang as she sat in the open door awaiting the
return of her mother, who had gone for the last time to see the
sunshine fall on Harry's grave.




CHAPTER II.

THE JOURNEY.


Mrs. Kennedy looked charming in her traveling dress of brown, and
the happy husband likened her to a Quakeress, as he kissed her
blushing. cheek and called her his "little wife." He had passed
through the ceremony remarkably well, standing very erect, making
the responses very, loud, and squeezing very becomingly the soft
white hand on whose third finger he placed the wedding ring--a very
small one, by the way. It was over now, and many of the bridal