't go away."

Presently Deacon Little approached with Mrs. Little. Hetty kissed the
good old man as heartily as if he had been her father; then, turning to
Mrs. Little, she said in a clear voice:

"I am very glad to see you in my house at last, Mrs. Little. Have you
seen Sally yet? She has been so busy receiving our friends, that I
am afraid you have hardly had a chance to talk with her. Sally," she
continued, turning and taking Sally by the hand, "I shall be at liberty
now to attend to my friends, and you must devote yourself to Mrs.
Little;" and, with the unquestioning gesture of an empress, Hetty passed
Mrs. Little over into Sally's charge.

Nobody could read on Hetty's features at this moment any thing except
most cordial good-will and the tender happiness of a bride; but her
heart was fighting like a knight in a tournament for rescue of one
beset, and she was inwardly saying: "If she dares to refuse speak to her
now, I'll expose her before this whole roomful of people."

Mrs. Little did not dare. More than ever she dreaded Hetty at this
moment, and her surprise and fear added something to her manner towards
Sally which might almost have passed for eagerness, as they walked
away together; poor Sally lifting one quick deprecating look at Hetty's
smiling and inexorable face. Deacon Little hastily retreated to a
corner, where he stood wiping his forehead, endeavoring not to look
alarmed, and thinking to himself:

"Well, if Hetty don't beat all! What'll Mrs. Little do now, I wonder?"
And presently, as cautiously as a man stalking a deer, he followed the
couple, and tried to judge, by the expression of his wife's face, how
things were going. Things were going very well. Mrs. Little had, in
common with all weak and obstinate persons, a very foolish fear of
ever being supposed to be dictated to or controlled by anybody. She
was distinctly aware that Hetty had checkmated her. She had strong
suspicions that there might be others looking on who understood the
game; and the only subterfuge left her, the only shadow of pretence
of not having been outwitted, was to appear as if she were glad of the
opportunity of talking with Sally. Sally's appealing affectionateness
of manner went very far to make this easy. She had no resentment to
conceal: all these years she had never blamed Jim's mother; she had only
yearned to win her love, to be permitted to love her. She looked up in
her face now, and said, as they walked on:

"Oh