“But, after all,” rejoined Mrs. Stimpson, “she has the same solemn eyes of my poor, dear mother; and it seems to me more so than ever to-night.” “Look like her grandmother!” said her husband, with strong emphasis; “she looks more like a bird of paradise, such as I’ve seen in Ingee. That yaller satin becomes her most remarkably; she sartainly is the comeliest person that ever I clapped my eyes on.” Here Madam Fayerweather joined them, and laying her hand impressively on the arm of Mrs. Stimpson, interrupted them as she pointed to Judith, “She’s the prettiest, the dearest creature that ever was seen, and as good as she is pretty;” and as the object of her encomiums came up to them with glowing cheeks, the minuet being finished, Madam could not refrain from kissing her, saying, “My dear, you did dance charmingly.” George would willingly have made one of the group, but was called away reluctantly by his co-adjutor, the young Englishman, who asked him with more freedom than George approved of, “What he would take for his bargain?” then surveying his noble figure with internal admiration, he added, after a short pause, “Fayerweather, you are a lucky dog.” Afterward, in the course of the evening, he managed to pay Judith so much attention as to distress the modest girl not a little, and to give some pain to George, whose office as groomsman, did not allow him to be exclusively devoted to her. Mr. Lindsey manœuvered to be beforehand with every one else in inviting her to be his partner in the country dances, and her refusal necessarily obliging her to sit still, he took his seat by her, and persisted in keeping it until supper was announced, when he took her hand, which she had no pretence for refusing, and led her in triumph to the supper-table. Mr. Fayerweather, who had intended to perform this office himself, in order to do particular honor to his son’s choice, felt no slight displeasure at such presumption, with a strong disposition to make known to Mr. Lindsey, that “he considered him an impertinent coxcomb.” He refrained, however, and advancing toward Judith’s father and mother, he begged to have the honor of leading _Madam_ Stimpson to the supper-table. Madam Stimpson bridled up and looked at her husband; the dignified frown on whose brow was contradicted by the complacent smile which, in spite of his endeavor, lurked about his mouth; then making her courtsey—and a very good one it was—she gave her hand to Mr. Fayerweather; and the three proceeded in state to the supper-room—the captain marching with head erect on the other side of his wife. It was a proud evening for Captain Bob Stimpson. On the whole, the wedding went off with great _éclat_. The happy pair set off the next day for Boston, to embark for Quebec. On the following week, Captain Fayerweather was to set sail on a two years’ voyage—on his return from which he was to claim his bride.