"Perhaps in such an emergency I might find a very convincing one," said William, with a glance at Muriel, who had been looking confused, and who now coloured deeply. It was more with displeasure than distress; but then it was, for the first time, that she struck him as being something more than a merely pretty girl.
MacJacobs, came, punctual to his time, a small but sprightly individual, with plenty to say as a proof of his existence. He brought neat, if not over-expensive, scarf-pins for his gentlemen attendants, and a bracelet in corresponding style for Miss Blake. The wedding went off to general admiration. The church was full, and if the company at the house was scanty, there was no scarcity in the banquet. And when the feast was over, and Mrs. MacJacobs, on the carriage-step, turned to take her last farewell; while Muriel's handkerchief was ready in her hand, and the Crocker boys were fumbling among the rice in their pockets, and William Winchester himself was feeling in his for the old shoe—"I am sure," she said, "it has gone off beautifully, and I shall never, never forget your kindness, as long as I live! I did so want to have a pretty wedding—such as I've read about!"
If these last words roused dismal forebodings in the minds of the bridal train, to be verified by a perusal of the next day's Boston papers, they were forgiven as soon as they were uttered; for the light patter of Minnie's voice died away in a quaver of genuine feeling; and a shower of real tears threw for once a veil of sweetness over her little inexpressive face.
THE END.
BY ANNA FULLER.
A LITERARY COURTSHIP.
| Under the auspices of Pike's Peak. Printed on deckel edged paper, with illustrations. 22nd edition. 12°, gilt top | $1.25 |