“Ah!” exclaimed the young wife, smiling a beautiful negative. “We will go and take a sentimental walk through those very squares we strolled through that night--do you remember?” “Yes!” How strange seemed that recollection!--how little she had then thought she was walking with her future husband! Yet, when a few hours after she trod the well-known streets, with her wifely feelings, sweet and grave, and thought that the arm on which she now leaned was her own through life, Agatha Harper was not unhappy, nor would she for one moment have wished to be again Agatha Bowen. The next day, by the husband's express desire--the declaring of which was a great act of self-denial on his part--word was sent to the Thornycrofts of the arrival of Mr. and Mrs. Locke Harper. Very trembling, shy, and bewitching the bride sat, waiting for the meeting; and when Emma did really come, very tragico-comic, half pleasure, half tears, was the hearty embrace between the two women. Mr. Harper stood and looked on--he played the young husband as composedly as he had done the lover and the bridegroom, except for a slight jealous movement as he saw the clinging, the kisses, the tears, which, with the warmth of a heart thrilled by new emotions and budding out into all manner of new tendernesses, Agatha lavished on her friend. Yet, whatever he felt, no one could observe but that Nathanael was extremely polite and kind to Mrs. Thornycroft. She on her part admired him extremely--in whispers. “How well he looks! Really quite changed! No one would ever think of calling him a 'boy' now. You must be quite proud of your husband, my dear.” Agatha smiled, and a light thrill at her heart betrayed its answer. Very soon she ceased to be shy and shame-faced, and sat talking quite at ease, as if she had been Mrs. Locke Harper for at least a year. Emma Thornycroft was a person not likely to waste much time on the sentimentalities of such a meeting; she soon dashed into the common-sense question of what were their plans in London? and when they would come and dine with herself and “James” “Quite friendly. We will ask no one, except of course Major Harper.” “He is out of town,” said Nathanael. “What a pity--Yet, no wonder; London is so terribly hot now. Is he quite well?” “I believe so,” Agatha answered for her husband, who had moved off. “Because James has met him frequently of late, rushing about the City as pale as a ghost, and looking so miserable. We were afraid something was wrong with him.” “Oh, I hope not,” exclaimed Agatha, eagerly. “My brother is quite well,” Mr. Harper again observed, from his outpost by the window; and something in his tone unconsciously checked and changed the conversation.