and you'll stay till after the wedding. It's the twentieth, and he has
bought me so many new things. We are going to Europe. Just think of a
winter in Paris, with Mr. Browning! But, what! Are you _crying_?" and
Rosamond started as a burning tear fell upon her forehead.

"Rosamond Leyton," said Miss Porter, in a voice husky with emotion, "I
have not wept in eight long years, but the sight of you, so innocent,
so happy, wrings the tears from my stony heart, as agony will
sometimes force out the drops of perspiration when the body is
shivering with cold. I was young like you once, and my bridal was
fixed--" She paused, and stealing an arm around her waist, Rosamond
said pleadingly, "Tell me about it, Miss Porter, I always knew you had
a history. Did the man die?"

"No--no. Better for me if he had--aye, and better, too, for you."

This last was a whisper, and Rosamond did not hear it. Her thoughts
were bent upon the story, and she continued, "Will it pain you too
much to tell it now?"

"Yes, yes, wait," Miss Porter said, "Wait until after dinner, and
meantime, as I cannot possibly stay until the 20th, perhaps you will
let me see your dresses."

Nothing could please Rosamond more, and gay as a little child, she led
the way to a large upper room, which contained her wedding outfit.
Proudly she displayed her treasures, flitting like a bird from one
pile of finery to another, and reserving the most important until the
very last.