Rico said scarcely a word when Stineli went, but it seemed to him that she took all the sunshine in the world away with her. The clouds remained from November to the following Easter. The days had dragged along in monotonous fashion, with the zest of life completely gone. Now it was Easter Sunday. The festivities of the day were over, the garden was one mass of bloom, and the fields gave promise of a bountiful harvest. It ought to have made everybody happy, yet here was Rico, sitting with Silvio in the midst of all this luxury and beauty, playing the most melancholy tunes he could think of. To be sure they suited Rico's mood, but they depressed Silvio and made him extremely fretful. Suddenly they heard, "Rico, haven't you a more cheerful welcome?" Silvio screamed for joy. Rico threw the violin on the bed and rushed out. Mrs. Menotti came in from an adjoining room to see what had happened. There on the threshold stood Stineli. The sunshine was back again. She had not had the slightest notion of the hearty welcome that awaited her return. In fact, the others had not realized how necessary she was to their happiness until she was gone. They gathered about Silvio's bed as usual, and they asked questions and answered them and rejoiced that the days of separation were over. A few years later something came about so naturally that it seemed as if it could not have been otherwise. One lovely day in May--as fine a day as Peschiera had ever seen--a long wedding procession moved from the church to the Golden Sun. The tall, handsome Rico was at the head, and by his side, with a wreath of roses on her fair brow, was the beautiful Stineli. Next came Silvio, in a softly upholstered cart drawn by two Peschiera boys. Next in line was the mother, in her rustling festive attire, looking somewhat pale and tired. The flower girls who came next were almost hidden in the roses they carried; following them came the guests, and it seemed from their number that all Peschiera must have turned out to do honor to the young bride and bridegroom. The pride of the landlady of the Golden Sun, when she saw the procession coming, can be better imagined than described. Ever after, when anybody told about a wedding, she would say scornfully, "That is nothing compared to Rico's wedding at the Golden Sun." The loyal Peschierans rejoiced that Rico was to make his home among them. The sunshine never again left him, and the home nestled in the beautiful garden was always a happy one. Stineli never let the Lord's Prayer be forgotten, and the grandmother's song could be heard every Sunday night. WISELI FINDS HER PLACE CHAPTER I COASTING