be for the absence of the
usual wedding outfit and wedding-dress. But no further reference to the
marriage would pass her lips, and without an other word she abruptly
left the room.

The meek and melancholy Louisa stood lost in astonishment. "Something
wrong here," she thought. "I'm half afraid of my new place already." She
sighed resignedly, shook her head, and went to the wardrobe. She first
examined the drawers underneath, took out the various articles of linen
laid inside, and placed them on chairs. Opening the upper part of the
wardrobe next, she ranged the dresses in it side by side on the bed. Her
last proceeding was to push the empty boxes into the middle of the room,
and to compare the space at her disposal with the articles of dress
which she had to pack. She completed her preliminary calculations
with the ready self-reliance of a woman who thoroughly understood her
business, and began the packing forthwith. Just as she had placed the
first article of linen in the smaller box, the door of the room opened,
and the house-servant, eager for gossip, came in.

"What do you want?" asked Louisa, quietly.

"Did you ever hear of anything like this!" said the house-servant,
entering on her subject immediately.

"Like what?"

"Like this marriage, to be sure. You're London bred, they tell me. Did
you ever hear of a young lady being married without a single new thing
to her back? No wedding veil, and no wedding breakfast, and no wedding
favors for the servants. It's flying in the face of Providence--that's
what I say. I'm only a poor servant, I know. But it's wicked, downright
wicked--and I don't care who hears me!"

Louisa went on with the packing.

"Look at her dresses!" persisted the house-servant, waving her hand
indignantly at the bed. "I'm only a poor girl, but I wouldn't marry the
best man alive without a new gown to my back. Look here! look at this
dowdy brown thing here. Alpaca! You're not going to pack this Alpaca
thing, are you? Why, it's hardly fit for a servant! I don't know that
I'd take a gift of it if it was offered me. It would do for me if I took
it up in the skirt, and let it out in the waist--and it wouldn't look so
bad with a bit of bright trimming, would it?"

"Let that dress alone, if you please," said Louisa, as quietly as ever.

"What did you say?" inquired the other, doubting whether her ears had
not deceived her.

"I said, let that dress alone. It belongs to my mistress, and I have m