The clergyman uttered these words with great solemnity, and by mere chance, looked full at Edith, who involuntarily raised her eyes, and felt glad that there was nothing unconfessed on her part. Had there been, she must have shrieked it out even then at the last moment. But Col. Schuyler knew all about that grave at Schuyler Hill; all about the baby girl who died, and liked her just the same. There was no reason on her part why she should not be his wife, and she met the clergyman’s eyes frankly, and felt a thrill of joy and peace even while she wondered if the bridegroom thought of that other bridal, when Abelard Lyle stood beside her in Mr. Calvert’s parlor, with Emily looking on. And Godfrey had been there too, his first experience of a wedding, perhaps. Had he ever thought of it since? Would his father ever tell him who the boy-husband was, who the childish bride? Probably not, and it was just as well. Godfrey had no concern in her past; only the father was interested, and if he was satisfied, that was sufficient. Thus Edith reasoned to herself, and saw the broad band of gold upon her finger, and felt the pressure of her hand which the colonel gave her, and knew that he was glad because of her, and when it all was over she left the altar as happy as half the brides who embark upon the sea of matrimony, with the uncertain future before them. As she turned and passed near Gertie, a bouquet fell at her feet, and the face of the child who threw it was something wonderful to look at as she watched to see if her gift would be observed and accepted. It was, for Godfrey and Robert both sprang forward to get it, but Godfrey was the one who picked it up, and turning toward Gertie, he pressed it to his lips, and then, with a sign which Gertie understood, indicated that the bride should have it. “Oh, wasn’t it nice, though!” Gertie said, when she was home again, and talking of the event. “Such a sweet, beautiful lady, only I thought her face was kind of sorry, and Col. Schuyler was a great deal too old. I’d rather have the son, Mr. Godfrey, you call him. His face is smooth and handsome, and his eyes so full of fun. He is the one who looked at me so in the cab at Mrs. Barrett’s, and he stared at me to-day, and kissed my flowers. I like Godfrey Schuyler ever so much. Do you believe I’ll see him in America?” Mrs. Rogers had listened with a good deal of interest to Gertie’s remarks about the wedding, but when she came to Godfrey, and began to speculate upon the probability of seeing him in America, a shadow flitted across her face, and she said: “Gertie, listen a moment. You probably will see Mr. Godfrey Schuyler in America, and perhaps on shipboard, and if he noticed you in the cab and at church, as you say he did, he may try to talk to you, but you are not to encourage him. Gentlemen’s sons do not talk to girls like you for any good.”