on began to say that Molly s cow-boy could be
invited anywhere and hold his own. The time came when they ceased to
speak of him as a cow-boy, and declared that she had shown remarkable
sense. But this was not quite yet.

Did this bride and groom enjoy their visit to her family? Well--well,
they did their best. Everybody did their best, even Sarah Bell. She said
that she found nothing to object to in the Virginian; she told Molly so.
Her husband Sam did better than that. He told Molly he considered that
she was in luck. And poor Mrs. Wood, sitting on the sofa, conversed
scrupulously and timidly with her novel son-in-law, and said to Molly
that she was astonished to find him so gentle. And he was undoubtedly
fine-looking; yes, very handsome. She believed that she would grow to
like the Southern accent. Oh, yes! Everybody did their best; and, dear
reader, if ever it has been your earthly portion to live with a number
of people who were all doing their best, you do not need me to tell you
what a heavenly atmosphere this creates.

And then the bride and groom went to see the old great-aunt over at
Dunbarton.

Their first arrival, the one at Bennington, had been thus: Sam Bell
had met them at the train, and Mrs. Wood, waiting in her parlor, had
embraced her daughter and received her son-in-law. Among them they had
managed to make the occasion as completely mournful as any family party
can be, with the window blinds up. "And with you present, my dear," said
Sam Bell to Sarah, "the absence of a coffin was not felt."

But at Dunbarton the affair went off differently. The heart of the
ancient lady had taught her better things. From Bennington to Dunbarton
is the good part of a day's journey, and they drove up to the gate in
the afternoon. The great-aunt was in her garden, picking some August
flowers, and she called as the carriage stopped, "Bring my nephew here,
my dear, before you go into the house."

At this, Molly, stepping out of the carriage, squeezed her husband's
hand. "I knew that she would be lovely," she whispered to him. And then
she ran to her aunt's arms, and let him follow. He came slowly, hat in
hand.

The old lady advanced to meet him, trembling a little, and holding out
her hand to him. "Welcome, nephew," she said. "What a tall fellow you
are, to be sure. Stand off, sir, and let me look at you."

The Virginian obeyed, blushing from his black hair to his collar.

Then his new relative turned to her niece,