lent which God has given you. But sooner or later, Olive, there
comes to every woman, who stands alone, a yearning for love and home; a
desire to feel that there is some one whom she can claim as her own, and
to whom she is dearer than aught else. Love your art, dear, work
faithfully in it, and if it should always satisfy your heart, I will be
quite content, for then you will always be my own. If the other feeling
ever comes, God will take care of it. Now go, dear; don't let this keep
you awake longer, for we want all fresh faces to-morrow. Good night."

The clock struck one, as they gave a kiss in the moonlight, then Olive
went slowly away; not a whit less certain, that every one was wrong, and
she was right; no number of years could make any difference to her.

Everything joined in making the next day the brightest, and loveliest
that had ever dawned. Never did a May morning sun come up with a purer
glitter of gold; never had the birds sang so sweetly; and never before,
as any one remembered, had the rose-vines over the porch, blossomed
before June, and yet this morning, there were three snowy half-blown
buds peeping in at the window of Ernestine's room, and she picked them
to put in the bride's brown hair.

Pansy Murray came over early in the morning, and brought a beautiful
bouquet to each of the sisters, excepting Bea, to whom she said with
mysterious smiles: "I couldn't bring your bouquet, but our green-house
man's going to come with it;" and then finding that Kittie was too busy
to pay much attention to her, she devoted herself to Jean, whom she had
seen once before, and fallen quite in love with.

Bea had had some little longings for a stylish wedding, but it had been
impossible, besides, she had found that Walter preferred a quiet home
one; so this morning, when the girls helped to dress her, and she put on
her pretty brown suit, with the white rose-buds in her brown hair, she
was perfectly content, and would not have had it otherwise.

"You look lovely," cried Kittie, with a rapturous sigh, when the last
thing had been done, and they all drew back to inspect.

"That dress is a beauty, and you look like a daisy."

"What do you think?" cried Kat, rushing in just then. "Raymond's
gardener has brought your bouquet, and what do you think it is?"

"What?" cried the girls eagerly.

"A beautiful wedding-bell, all of white flowers; and he's hanging it in
the folding doors;" upon which announcement, every one ra