tenderly; "and
you shall hug me, too, as hard as you like, before I go."

He was not slow to accept the invitation, and evidently had a hard
struggle with himself, to refrain from giving the forbidden hug.

"You may hug me instead, Horace, if you like," said Mr. Travilla; "you
know we're very fond of each other, and are going to be brothers now."

"Yes, that I will, for I do like you ever so much," cried the boy,
springing into the arms held out to him, and receiving and returning a
warm embrace, while the sister looked on with eyes glistening with
pleasure.

"Now, in a few minutes I'll become your brother Edward; and that's what I
want you to call me in future. Will you do it?"

"Yes, sir; if papa doesn't forbid me."

A light tap at the door leading into the boudoir, and Walter put in his
head. "The company, the clergy-man, and the hour have come. Are the bride
and groom ready?"

"Yes."

Releasing the child, Mr. Travilla drew Elsie's hand within his arm. For
an instant he bent his eyes with earnest, questioning gaze upon her face.
It wore an expression that touched him to the heart, so perfectly
trustful, so calmly, peacefully happy, yet with a deep tender solemnity
mingling with and subduing her joy. The soft eyes were misty with unshed
tears as she lifted them to his.

"It is for life," she whispered; "and I am but young and foolish; shall
you never regret?"

"Never, _never_; unless you grow weary of your choice."

The answering smile was very sweet and confiding. "I have not chosen
lightly, and do not fear because it is for life," was its unspoken
language.

And truly it was no hasty, ill-considered step she was taking, but one
that had been calmly, thoughtfully pondered in many an hour of solitude
and communion with that unseen Friend whom from earliest youth she had
acknowledged in all her ways, and who had, according to His promise,
directed her paths. There was no excitement, no nervous tremor, about her
then or during the short ceremony that made them no more twain but one
flesh. So absorbed was she in the importance and solemnity of the act she
was performing, that little room was left for thought of anything
else--her personal appearance, or the hundreds of pairs of eyes fixed upon
her; even her father's presence, and the emotions swelling in his breast
were for the time forgotten. Many marked the rapt expression of her face,
and the clear and distinct though low tones of the sweet voice as sh