every leaf and twig, and beyond all was
the sheen of the murmurous river.

The blackbird was in full song now, and by degrees others joined
in--thrush, and lark, and linnet, with the humbler voices of the
farmyard--until the sunny air was vibrant with the chorus.

Presently a man in a sleeved waistcoat crossed the paddock, whistling
lustily, and from somewhere below there rose a merry clatter of plates
and dishes; and thus the old inn, which had seen so many mornings, woke
up to yet another. But there never was, there never could be, just
such another morning as this was!

And in a little while, having dressed with more than usual care, I went
downstairs to find my breakfast awaiting me in the "Sanded Parlour,"
having ordered it for this early hour the night previously--ham and
eggs and fragrant coffee, what mortal could wish for more?

And while I ate, waited on by the rosy-cheeked chambermaid, in came
Master Amos Baggett, mine host, to pass the time of day, and likewise
to assure me that my baggage should catch the early train; who when I
rose, my meal at an end, paused to wipe his honest hand quite
needlessly upon his snowy apron ere he wished me "Good-bye."

So having duly remembered the aforesaid rosy-cheeked chambermaid, the
obsequious "Boots" and the grinning ostler, I sallied forth into the
sunshine, and crossing the green, where stood the battered sign-post, I
came to a flight of rough steps, at the foot of which my boat was
moored. In I stepped, cast loose the painter, and shipping the sculls,
shot out into the stream.

No, there never was, there never could be, just such another morning as
this, for to-day I was to marry Lisbeth, and every stroke of the oar
carried me nearer to her and happiness. Gaily the alders bent and
nodded to me; joyfully the birds piped and sang; merrily the water
laughed and chattered against my prow as I rowed through the golden
morning.

Long before the hour appointed I reached the water-stairs at Fane
Court, and tying my skiff, lighted my pipe and watched the smoke rise
slowly into the still air while I tried "to possess my soul in
patience." Sitting thus, I dreamed many a fair dream of the new life
that was to be, and made many resolutions, as a man should upon his
wedding morn.

And at last came Lisbeth herself, swiftly, lightly, as fair and sweet
and fresh as the morning, who yet paused a while to lean upon the
balustrade and look down at me beneath the brim of her