ing room, which was on the opposite side of the front
hall and in the rear of the library.

An elegant tete-a-tete dinner but for the presence of the old butler and
one young footman who waited on them.

They did not linger long at table, but soon left it and returned
together to the drawing room.

They had scarcely seated themselves when the door bell rang, and in a
few moments afterward a card was brought in and handed to Mr. Rothsay,
who took it and read:

A.B. Crawford.

"Show the judge into the library and say that I will be with him in a
few moments," he said to the servant.

"He is one of the judges of the supreme court of the State, dear, and I
must go to him. I hope he will not keep me long," said Mr. Rothsay, as
he raised the hand of his bride to his lips and then left the room.

With a sigh of intense relief Cora leaned back in her chair and closed
her eyes.

People have been known to die suddenly in their chairs. Why could not
she die as she sat there, with her whole head heavy and her whole heart
faint, she thought.

She listened--fearfully--for the return of her husband, but he did not
come as soon as he had hoped to do; for while she listened the door bell
rang again, and another visitor made his appearance, and after a short
delay was shown into the library.

Then came another, and still another, and afterward others, until the
library must have been half full of callers on the governor-elect.

And presently a large band of musicians halted before the house and
began a serenade. They played and sang "Hail to the Chief," "Yankee
Doodle," "Hail Columbia," and other popular or national airs.

Mr. Rothsay and his friends went out to see them and thank them, and
then their shouts rent the air as they retired from the scene.

The gentlemen re-entered the house and retired to the library, where
they resumed their discussion of official business, until another
multitude had gathered before the house and shouts of--

"Hoo-rah-ah ah for Rothsay!" rose to the empyrean.

Neither the governor-elect nor his companions responded in any way to
this compliment until loud, disorderly cries for--

"Rothsay!"

"Rothsay!"

"Rothsay!"

constrained them to appear.

The governor-elect was again greeted with thundering cheers. When
silence was restored he made a short, pithy address, which was received
with rounds of applause at the close of every paragraph.

When the speech was finished, he bowed and