"Must I say that, Ben?"
"Yes, to be sure. If you are ashamed to say what's right, you may depend upon it you haven't much inclination to do it."
"You have convinced me, Ben. I will humble myself. It is fit and proper that I should. So I will say as nearly as I can recollect just what you have told me to say."
"You can't do better; and here we are at the corner of the street. Now if you would rather go in by yourself without me, only say the word, and I'm off."
Mrs. Oakley hesitated for a moment and then she said—
"Yes, Ben, I would rather go alone."
"Very good. I think it's better too, so good-by; and I'll call to-morrow and see how you are all getting on."
"Do so, Ben. No one can possibly be more welcome than you will be. You will be sure to come to-morrow?"
"Rather."
With this Ben walked away, and Mrs. Oakley entered the house. What then passed we do not feel that we ought to relate. The humiliations of human nature, although for the best of purposes, and for the ultimate happiness of the parties themselves, are not subjects for the pen of the chronicler. Suffice it, that Mr. and Mrs. Oakley were perfectly reconciled, and were happy upon that day.