dismissed that subject from her mind with the reflection that it was the nature of some girls to be very pretty to the gentlemen, without meaning any harm. She liked Marian on the whole, regarding her as a quiet woman, who knew her business and kept to it, but never guessing that her feelings, too, were stirred to their very depths as the bridal preparations progressed. She only knew how wretched she was herself, and how hard it was to fight her tears back as she bent over the plaided silk, weaving in with every stitch a part of the clinging love which each day grew stronger for the only sister, who would soon be gone, leaving her alone. Only once did she break entirely down, and that was when the dress was done and Katy tried it on, admiring its effect, and having a second glass brought that she might see it behind. "Isn't it lovely?" she exclaimed; "and the more valuable because you made it, I shall think of you every time I wear it," and the impulsive girl found her arms around Helen's neck, kissing her lovingly, while Helen sank into a chair and sobbed aloud: "Oh, Katy, darling Katy! you won't forget me when you are rich and admired and can have all you want? You will remember us here at home, so sad and lonely? You don't know how desolate it will be, knowing you are gone, never to come back again, just as you go away." In an instant Katy was on her knees before Helen whom she tried to comfort by telling her how she should come back, come often, too, staying a long while; and that when she had a city home of her own she should live with her for good, and they would be so happy. "I cannot quite give Wilford up to please you," she said, when that gigantic sacrifice suggested itself as something which it was possible Helen might require of her; "but I will do anything else, only please don't cry, darling Nellie--please don't cry. It spoils all my pleasure," and Katy's soft hands wiped away the tears running so fast over her sister's face. After that Helen did not cry again in Katy's presence, but the latter knew she wanted to and it made her rather sad, particularly when she saw reflected in the faces of the other members of the family the grief she had witnessed in Helen. Even Uncle Ephraim was not as cheerful as usual, and once when Katy came upon him in the woodshed chamber, where he was shelling corn, she found him resting from his work and looking from the window far off across the hills, with a look which made her guess he was thinking of her, and stealing up beside him she laid her hand upon his wrinkled face, whispering softly: "Poor Uncle Eph, are you sorry, too?" He knew what she meant, and the aged chin quivered, while a big tear dropped into the tub of corn, as he replied: "Yes, Katy-did--very sorry."