She pulled off one of her pale-colored gloves and showed me the left hand. I saw the ring--oh, how strange I felt,--hot and cold; glad and sorry; excited, and yet staid! I flew to my first friend and kissed his hand: "Dear Mr. Davy, I am so glad!" "I thought you would be, Charles. If I had anticipated any objection on your part, I should have written to you first!" "Oh, Mr. Davy!" I cried, laughing, "but why did they not write and tell me?" "My dear brother, it was that we wished to spare you all disappointment." "You mean I could not have come home. No, I don't think I could, even for your wedding, Millicent, and yours, Mr. Davy; we have been so busy lately." Davy laughed. "Oh, I see what an important person you have become! We knew it; and it was I who persuaded your mother not to unsettle you. I did it for the best." "It was for the best, dearest Charles," said Millicent, looking into Davy's face as if perfectly at home with it. She had never used to look into his face at all. "Oh!" I again exclaimed, suddenly reminded, "what did you wear, Millicent, to be married in?" "A white muslin pelisse, Charles, and Miss Benette's beautiful veil." "Yes; and, Charles," continued Davy, "Millicent gratified us both by asking Miss Benette to be her bridesmaid." "And did she come?" I asked, rather eagerly. "No, Charles; she did not." "I knew she would not," I thought, though I scarcely knew why. "But she came, Charles, the night before, and helped them to dress the table; and so beautiful she made it look that everybody was astonished,--yet she had only a few garden flowers, and a _very_ few rare ones." "But how long have you been married, Mr. Davy? and are you going to live _here_? What will the class do? Oh, the dear class! Who sits by Miss Benette now, Mr. Davy?" He laughed. "Oh, Charles, if you please, one question at a time! We have been married one week,--is it not, Millicent?" She smiled and blushed. "And I am not going to leave my class,--it is larger now than you remember it. And I have not left my little house, but I have made one more room, and we find it quite wide enough to contain us." "Oh, sir, then you came here for a trip! How delicious! Oh, Millicent, do you like Germany? Oh, you will see the Chevalier." "Well, Charles, it is only fair, for we have heard so much about him. Nothing in your letters but the Chevalier, and the Chevalier, and we do not even know his name from _you_. Clo says whenever your letters come, 'I wish he would tell us how he sleeps;' and my mother hopes that Seraphael is 'a good man,' as you are so fond of him." "But, Charles," added Davy, with his old earnestness and with a sparkling eye, "how, then, shall we see him, and where? For I would walk barefoot through Germany for that end."