“‘Let not your heart be troubled.’” “It _is_ troubled; it is full of trouble. It’s Affy and Cephas; they are deceiving me. They want to get married and deceive me more and more.” “Shall I tell you how we’ll stop that?” asked Roger, bending confidentially toward her. “Yes, do. Tell me quick.” “Let me marry them, and then you will never think they are deceiving you again. What is the reason they are deceiving you now?” “Because they think I stand between them; they think I’ve always stood between them,” she said, piteously; “but I never did. I was seeking their good.” “But don’t you think you have sought their good long enough?” he asked persuasively. “Yes; I’ve worn myself out for their good. I’m worn out now; they’ll have to do for themselves, after this.” “Who will take care of Affy after you are gone?” “I don’t know; I’m sure I don’t know. She doesn’t know how to take care of herself.” “But she was your little baby; you are sorry not to have her taken care of.” “Oh, yes, I’m sorry; I’m _very_ sorry.” Affy dropped on the lounge beside Doodles, and was crying like a child; Judith went to her and put both her strong young arms about her and her warm cheek to hers. Cephas cleared his throat, then busied himself burnishing his spectacles with a piece of old chamois. “Somebody must take care of her, Cephas knows how best,” said the minister with firmness, rubbing the cold, limp fingers. “Yes, Cephas knows how best,” she quavered “Come here, Cephas, and promise the minister you will always take care of Affy.” “Go, Aunt Affy,” said Judith, in her strong, young voice, “go and be married while Aunt Rody knows it. She’ll change her mind to-morrow—” “Oh, I can’t, I can’t,” sobbed Aunt Affy, “with Rody so near dying, how can I? It’s too hurried and dreadful.” “It’s too beautiful,” said Judith; “that is all she can do for you; do let her do it, dear Aunt Affy.” “Come, Affy,” said Cephas solemnly, “the Lord’s time has come.” “Perhaps it has,” sobbed Affy, trembling from head to foot, as Judith led her across the room. Roger arose and stood before the old man and the old woman; her head drooped so that one long curl rested on his shoulder. “I’d ought to have a coat on,” said Cephas with an ashamed face; “it isn’t proper for a man to be married in his shirt-sleeves.” “And let me fix up a little,” coaxed Aunt Affy; “this is my old muslin, all faded out.” “Oh, don’t spoil anything,” Judith besought; “see how she is watching you. Aunt Rody, don’t you want Uncle Cephas to take care of Aunt Affy?” “Yes, yes, oh, yes. Has he promised the minister?” she asked with tremulous anxiety. “Listen, and you will hear him promise. Joe, come here,” Roger called to the step in the kitchen. Joe came to the threshold, threw off his hat, and stood amazed. “Aunt Rody, put their hands together,” said Judith, taking Aunt Rody’s hands as the old bride and bridegroom stretched their hands toward her.