'm afraid. If we only
could have Mrs Snow here, Graeme?"

Graeme shook her head.

"I am afraid that can hardly be in the present state of her health. Not
that she is ill, but Mr Snow thinks the journey would be too much for
her. I am afraid it is not to be thought of?"

"Never mind--Charlie and Rosie can go round that way and get her
blessing. That will be the next best thing to having her here. And by
the time you are ready for the altar, Graeme, Janet will come, you may
be sure of that."

June had come, warm and beautiful. Harry and his bride had returned,
and the important but exhausting ceremony of receiving bridal visits was
nearly over. Graeme, at least, had found them rather exhausting, when
she had taken her turn of sitting with the bride; and so, on one
occasion, leaving Rose and some other gay young people to pass the
evening at Harry's house, she set out on her way home, with the feeling
of relief that all was over in which she was expected to assist,
uppermost in her mind. It would all have to be gone over again in
Rosie's case, she knew, but she put that out of her mind for the
present, and turned her thoughts to the pleasant things that were sure
to happen before that time--Norman's coming, and Will's. They might
come any day now. She had indulged in a little impatient murmuring that
Will's last letter had not named the day and the steamer by which he was
to sail, but it could not be long now at the longest, and her heart gave
a sudden throb as she thought that possibly he might not write as to the
day, but might mean to take them by surprise. She quickened her
footsteps unconsciously as the thought came into her mind; he might have
arrived already. But in a minute she laughed at her foolishness and
impatience, and then she sighed.

"There will be no more letters after Will comes home, at least there
will be none for me," she said to herself, but added, impatiently, "What
would I have? Surely that will be a small matter when I have him safe
and well at home again."

But she was a little startled at the pain which the thought had given
her; and then she denied to herself that the pain had been there. She
laughed at the idea, and was a little scornful over it, and then she
took herself to task for the scorn, as she had done for the pain. And
then, frightened at herself and her discomfort; she turned her thoughts,
with an efforts to a pleasanter theme--the coming of Norman and Hilda
and