_October 30th._ Milly was married in church, and she and Cousin Jason and Grace stopped by here on their way to the wedding for me to see them. Milly was beautiful, and no bride but Caro could be sweeter; and Grace, all in silvery gray, with that deep light in her eyes, was like nothing but the Moonlight Sonata. As to Cousin Jason, he was furbished almost past recognition; and my admiration pleased him like a boy. Caro fluttered about them, radiant in her bridesmaid’s dress, and followed by David’s adoring eyes. The Peon escorted Grace; and after awhile I watched the carriages coming back. Before they left for the station Caro telephoned me, and Uncle Milton wheeled me down to the gate, where I waved my handkerchief and cast my handful of rice as they drove by, Milly’s exquisite face alight with a look her husband may well carry in his heart always. * * * * * _November 29th._ How fast the days slip by! Milly came home early in the week, and yesterday was the Thanksgiving I prophesied about to David last spring. Certainly I am going all about the house; and to emphasize my success as a seer we had a family gathering at Thanksgiving dinner. The bride and groom were here, of course, and Grace, who leaves as soon as Caro is married, and Cousin Jason—resplendent, by the way, in his dress-suit, which he considered a capital joke on Caro. Cousin Jane looked not a day over fifty, and Cousin Chad had done some furbishing himself to keep her company. To think of a dinner party at Bird Corners again, after all these years! The Peon and I beamed at one another from the ends of the table; and in the centre, the bride and groom faced the bride-and-groom-to-be, with the older people tucked in at the corners. And it was all so good to see and hear—such a fairy tale come true—that, as I lie here today resting, I am just too happy for words. David and Caro are to be married next Wednesday—married here, at Bird Corners. I dare not risk going to the church yet, and Cousin Jane’s is quite as far away. Besides, both the children want it here, and it is and always has been Caro’s home as well as David’s. Cousin Jane has really been sweet about it; and it is all settled that she and Caro are to come over in time for me to help dress the bride. Grace is coming tomorrow, and will stay with me until it is all over and she goes away herself. * * * * * _December 9th._ The wedding day was perfect—cloudless blue, and the little red wren singing his matins in the lilac almost before it was light. I am glad the child is a winter bride. She can afford to ignore the seasons, for she carries spring-time in her heart, like her namesake out of doors.