and mine ever before my
mind to prevent my being foolish or reckless; for, you know, Patty, I'm
heels over head in love with you, and it's only for your sake I'm taking
all these pains and agreeing to do without my own wedded wife for weeks
to come!"

"Does the town clerk, or does the justice of the peace give a
wedding-ring, just like the minister?" Patty asked. "I shouldn't feel
married without a ring."

"The ring is all ready, and has 'M.W. to P.B.' engraved in it, with the
place for the date waiting; and here is the engagement ring if you'll
wear it when you're alone, Patty. My mother gave it to me when she
thought there would be something between Annabel Franklin and me. The
moment I looked at it--you see it's a topaz stone--and noticed the
yellow fire in it, I said to myself: 'It is like no one but Patty
Baxter, and if she won't wear it, no other girl shall!' It's the color
of the tip ends of your curls and it's just like the light in your eyes
when you're making fun!"

"It's heavenly!" cried Patty. "It looks as if it had been made of the
yellow autumn leaves, and oh! how I love the sparkle of it! But never
will I take your mother's ring or wear it, Mark, till I've proved myself
her loving, dutiful daughter. I'll do the one wrong thing of running
away with you and concealing our marriage, but not another if I can help
it."

"Very well," sighed Mark, replacing the ring in his pocket with rather
a crestfallen air. "But the first thing you know you'll be too good for
me, Patty! You used to be a regular will-o'-the-wisp, all nonsense and
fun, forever laughing and teasing, so that a fellow could never be sure
of you for two minutes together."

"It's all there underneath," said Patty, putting her hand on his arm and
turning her wistful face up to his. "It will come again; the girl in me
isn't dead; she isn't even asleep; but she's all sobered down. She
can't laugh just now, she can only smile; and the tears are waiting
underneath, ready to spring out if any one says the wrong word. This
Patty is frightened and anxious and her heart beats too fast from
morning till night. She hasn't any mother, and she cannot say a word to
her dear sister, and she's going away to be married to you, that's
almost a stranger, and she isn't eighteen, and doesn't know what's
coming to her, nor what it means to be married. She dreads her father's
anger, and she cannot rest till she knows whether your family will love
her and take her