At length through the parlor door came Dr. Lacey and Fanny, followed by Frank Cameron and Florence. Throughout the rooms was a solemn hush as Fanny was made Dr. Lacey's wife. Firmly Dr. Lacey held her hand until the last word was spoken; then when he felt sure that she was his, he stooped down and whispered in her ear, "Thank God that you are mine at last."

Three days after the wedding Mr. Middleton's carriage again stood before the door. When all was ready, Uncle Joshua knelt down, and winding his arm around Fanny, prayed in simple, touching language that God would protect his Sunshine, and at last bring them all to the same home. "All of us; and don't let one be missing thar." There was a peculiar pathos in the tone of his voice as he said the last words, and all knew to whom he referred.

Long and wearisome at Mr. Middleton's were the days succeeding Fanny's departure, while in Dr. Lacey's home all was joy and gladness.

It was about dark when Dr. Lacey arrived. Happy as a bird, Fanny sprang up the steps. Everything about her seemed homelike and cheerful. Kind, dusky faces peered at her from every corner, while Aunt Dilsey, with a complacent smile, stood ready to receive her. Fanny was prepared to like everything, but there was something peculiarly pleasing to her in Aunt Dilsey's broad, good-humored face. Going up to her she took both her hands, and said, "I know we shall be good friends. I shall like you and you shall love me a little, won't you, just as the old aunties did I left in Kentucky?"

Aunt Dilsey hadn't expected all this, and the poor creature burst into tears, saying, "Lord bless the sweet miss! I'd die for her this minute, I would."

Rondeau, Leffie and the other blacks belonging to the establishment, now came forward, and in the crowd little Jack's bow was entirely unappreciated; but Fanny next day made amends by giving him nearly a pound of candy, which had the effect of making him sick a week, but he got well in time to be present at Leffie's wedding, which took place just a week after Dr. Lacey's return.

Leffie, who chanced to be just the size of her young mistress, was thrown into ecstasies by the gift of a thin pink and white silk dress, which Fanny presented to her for a bridal gown. Aunt Dilsey, in order to show her thanks, went down on her knees, a thing she never attempted again, as it took her such [pg 237] an unheard-of length of time to recover a standing posture. Dr. Lacey had made Leffie the present of a pair of gold earrings, so that she was really a pretty bride, and Rondeau was the happiest negro in all New Orleans.

As weddings seem to be the order of this chapter, we may here, as well as anywhere, dispose of Mrs. Carrington, whom, you will remember, Raymond said he would one day marry. When he left Frankfort, he had no definite idea as to what he should do, but after reaching Cincinnati, it occured to him that his mother had a wealthy old bachelor uncle living in St. Louis, and thither he determined to go. This uncle, Mr. Dunlap, received the young man cordially, for he was the first relative he had met with in years. There was something, too, in the manner with which Raymond introduced himself that won for him a place in the crusty old man's good opinion.

"I am Fred Raymond," said he, "your niece Helen's son, and as poor a jack as there is this side of California. They say you are a stingy old customer, but I don't care for that. You have got to give me some business, and a home, too."

Raymond's method of approaching the old gentleman was successful, and he at once gave him a good position, which later developed into a partnership.