lay to the southward. On the grassy lawn in front tall forest trees
were growing, almost concealing the house from view, while their
long branches so met together as to form a beautiful arch over the
graveled walk which lead to the front door. It was, indeed, a
pleasant spot, and Matty, as she passed through the iron gate, could
not account for the feeling of desolation settling down upon her.

"Maybe it's because there are no flowers here--no roses," she
thought, as she looked around in vain for her favorites, thinking
the while how her first work should be to train a honeysuckle over
the door and plant a rose bush underneath the window.

Poor Matty! Dr. Kennedy had no love for flowers, and the only rose
bush he ever noticed was the one which John had planted at his
mistress' grave, and even this would, perchance, have been unseen,
if he had not scratched his hand unmercifully upon it as he one day
shook the stone to see if it were firmly placed in the ground ere he
paid the man for putting it there! It was a maxim of the doctor's
never to have anything not strictly for use, consequently his house,
both outside and in, was destitute of every kind of ornament; and
the bride, as she followed him through the empty hall into the
silent parlor, whose bare walls, faded carpet, and uncurtained
windows seemed so uninviting, felt a chill creeping over her
spirits, and sinking into the first hard chair she came to, she
might, perhaps, have cried had not John, who followed close behind
her, satchel on arm, whispered encouragingly in her ear, "Never you
mind, missus, your chamber is a heap sight brighter than this, 'case
I tended to that myself."

Mrs. Kennedy smiled gratefully upon him, feeling sure that beneath