He was happy and therefore he was extravagant. He never asked the coachman the price of his services, but put in his hand a twenty dollar bank note, about twice the amount of his fare; and when the latter fumbled in his pocket-book, said quickly:
“No, I don’t want any change! It is now about five o’clock; you can easily get back to Alexandria by seven. Good night.”
The coachman was profuse in his thanks, and hoped to have the pleasure of driving his honor often. And he mounted his box and drove off, no doubt wishing that he could have a bridal party for a fare every day of his life.
And the bridegroom led his bride into the house.
CHAPTER XIII.
THE CHILD BRIDE AT HOME.
His house she enters there to be the light,
Shining within when all without is night;
A guardian angel o’er his life presiding,
Doubling his pleasures, and his cares dividing.—Rogers.
“Welcome, mine own dear love, welcome to your home,” fervently whispered Alexander, as he led his bride across the threshold of the door that was held open by a pretty and neatly-dressed negro girl.