“Oh dear! Mr. Stimpson, we must think over a little what we shall have to do. I suppose, when we go into the room, Judith must be on your right hand, and I on your left—no, I must be on your right hand and Judith on your left—” “I think, Miss Stimpson,” said the captain, consequentially, “it will be more becoming for me to go in first, and for you and Judith to take hold of hands and follow me.” “Why, no, Mr. Stimpson; that doesn’t seem to me to be the right way—it wasn’t so at Nanny Dennis’s wedding, if I remember me rightly.” “But, ma,” interrupted their daughter gently, “I do not think this will be exactly like Mrs. Brayton’s wedding.” “No more it wont,” replied her father, “and we must go and take pattern by the others; I was always a good hand at taking a hint, and I don’t doubt we shall appear as well as any on ’em.” Here Mrs. Stimpson broke in with—“Oh, Judith, do think me on’t to make a courtesy when I go in; like as not I shall forget it in my hurry. I remember we all courtesied round at Nanny Dennis’s, we had each of us a white rosy in our hands, and it was the beautifullest sight! But, where’s my fan? Do run and get it Judith.” Judith tripped out of the room to get the fan, and as she closed the door, grandsir, who was not as usual dozing, but was listening to their conversation, and in fact, taking considerable interest in it, spoke out— “I am sorry, my children, to see you are so much overtaken with the pomps and vanities of this world; more it seems to me than that young child, that we might expect it of. You should strive to have the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, and remember that pride comes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall.” “So it does, grandsir,” answered his daughter-in-law meekly, after a moment of silence; “and I wont wear this elegant dress, but will put on my brown paduasoy; that was always thought good enough for me.” Showing that she had the requisite ornament, and that the Scripture he quoted was not applicable to her. “No, no child,” he replied quickly; “that would be disrespectful to your husband. I suppose you will be expected to have some worthy adornments, and I must say you become the dress.” “That she does,” added his son, forgetting the old gentleman’s exordium in his conclusion, “and I don’t believe there will be a more personable woman there than Captain Robert Stimpson’s wife.” “Oh, Mr. Stimpson,” said his wife, with recovered spirits, “do remember to shut up Trip; if you don’t he’ll follow us to the wedding; and if I was to see him in that room I do believe I should be mortified to pieces.”