! Daughter, and wife! they are the sweetest of all names when addressed
to me by papa's lips and yours."

"I ought not to find fault with his training, seeing what credit you do
it. However, you seemed to me as near perfection as possible before he
began. Ah, my little friend, for how many years I loved you with scarcely
a hope it would ever be returned in the way I wished. Indeed I can hardly
yet believe fully in my own happiness," he concluded with a joyous laugh.
The next day Elsie had the pleasure of showing her husband over the house
first, and then the estate. Their life at Viamede, for the few weeks of
their stay, seemed much like a repetition of her visit there the year
before with her father. They took the same rides, walks and drives; glided
over the clear waters of the bayou in the same boat; sought out each spot
of beauty or interest he had shown her; were, if possible, even more
constantly together, reading, writing, or engaged with music in library or
drawing-room, seated side by side on veranda or lawn enjoying
conversation, book or periodical; or, it might be, silently musing, hand
in hand, by the soft moonlight that lent such a witchery to the lovely
landscape. A pleasanter honeymoon could hardly have been devised.

In one thing, however, they were disappointed: they had hoped to be left
entirely to each other; but it was impossible to conceal their presence at
Viamede from the hospitable neighbors, and calls and invitations had to be
received and returned. But, both being eminently fitted to shine in
society, and each proud to display the other, this state of things did
not, after all, so greatly interfere with their enjoyment.

In fact, so delightful did they find their life in that lovely country
that they lingered week after week till nearly six had slipped away, and
letters from home began to be urgent for their return. Mr. Dinsmore was
wearying for his daughter, Mrs. Travilla for her son, and scarcely less
for the daughter so long vainly hoped for.

Every day a servant was despatched to the nearest post-office with their
mail, generally returning as full handed as he went. Mr. Dinsmore's
letters were, as he had promised, daily, and never left unanswered. The
old love was not, could not be forgotten in the new. Elsie was no less a
daughter because she had become a wife; but Edward was always a sharer in
her enjoyment, and she in his.

They were sitting on the veranda one morning when Uncle Ben r