and two of them
were considered pretty, and the other two were stylish.

One of my keenest regrets was that Bessie's brother George was away off
in Paris, and could not grace the occasion with his superb presence; for
he was a superb fellow in all respects, and I felt a true brotherly
affection for him. Had he not introduced me to Bessie? Had he not always
wanted me to become his brother-in-law?

The great day came at last. The town was full of the invited people, and
the weather, so anxiously looked to on such occasions, was all that
could be desired. My remembrance of the solemn events of that day is
now rather misty. I remember the tussle De Forest and I had with my
collar and cravat in the morning, and how he stuck pins into my neck,
and wrestled mightily with his own elaborate toilet. I remember, and
this very distinctly, how awfully tight were my new patent-leather
boots, which caused me for the time being the most excruciating anguish.
Beyond these, and similar minor things which have a way of sticking in
the memory, all the rest is very much like a vivid dream. The close
carriage whirling through the streets; a great crush of people, with
here and there a familiar, smiling face; Bessie in her wedding-dress of
white silk, with her long veil and twining garlands of orange blossoms;
the bridesmaids, radiant in tarletan, with pretty blue bows and sashes;
the long aisle, up which we marched with slow and reverent tread; the
pealing measures of the Wedding Chorus; the dignified and fatherly
clergyman; the vealy young assistant; the unction of the slowly intoned
words of the marriage-service; the fumbling for the ring,--and through
it all there rises, as out of a mist, the face of my mother-in-law, the
presiding genius of it all, the unknown quantity in the equation of my
married life, now begun amid the felicitations, more or less sincere, of
a host of kissing, hand-shaking, smiling, chattering, good-natured
aunts, uncles, cousins, and relatives of all degrees.

CHAPTER IV.

MOUNTAINS AND MORE MOTHER-IN-LAW.

So the bells were rung, metaphorically speaking, and we were wed. I had
a long leave of absence from the banking-house in which I held a
responsible and confidential position, and we started for the mountains,
leaving mamma Pinkerton to put things to rights and follow us in a
fortnight, when we had decided to settle down for a month's quiet stay
in a picturesque town of the mountain region. Oh, the