had had
great difficulty in getting him into the one hackney coach which the
village possessed, on account of his wish to ride with the driver, "a
feller as he knowed;" but he was overruled by Mrs. Balfour, who, on
alighting, took his arm. He came up the garden walk, smiling in the
faces and eyes of those gathered around the door and clustered at the
windows. In his wedding dress, he was the best figure in the crowd, and
many were the exclamations of feminine admiration.

On entering the door, he looked about him, saw the well-dressed and
expectant company, the dainty baskets of flowers, the bountifully loaded
table in the little dining-room, all the preparations for his day of
happiness, but he saw nowhere the person who gave to him the
significance of the occasion.

Mr. Snow greeted him cordially, and introduced him to those who stood
near.

"Well, parson, where's the little woman?" he said, at last, in a voice
so loud that all heard the startling question. Miss Butterworth heard
him, and laughed.

"Just hear him!" she exclaimed to the busy girl, whose work was now
hurrying to a close. "If he doesn't astonish them before he gets
through, I shall be mistaken. I do think it's the most ridiculous thing.
Now isn't it! The idea!"

Miss Snow, in the general character of outside manager and future
companion of the bride, hurried to Jim's side at once, and said:

"Oh, Mr. Fenton!"

"Jest call me Jim."

"No, no, I won't. Now, Mr. Fenton, really! you can't see her until she
is ready!"

"Oh can't I!" and Jim smiled.

Miss Snow had the impression, prevalent among women, that a bridegroom
has no rights so long as they can keep him out of them, and that it is
their privilege to fight him up to the last moment.

"Now, really, Mr. Fenton, you _must_ be patient," she said, in a
whisper. "She is quite delicate this morning, and she's going to look so
pretty that you'll hardly know her."

"Well," said Jim, "if you've got a ticket into the place whar she's
stoppin', tell her that kingdom-come is here an' waitin'."

A ripple of laughter went around the circle, and Jim, finding the room
getting a little close, beckoned Mr. Snow out of the doors. Taking him
aside and removing his hat, he said:

"Parson, do you see my har?"

"I do," responded the minister, good-naturedly.

"That riz last night," said Jim, solemnly.

"Is it possible?" and Mr. Snow looked at the intractable pile with
genuine concern.

"Yes, riz in a d