The ceremony over, the wedding parties, including Mrs. Sherman, started on a tour to the old homestead, where it was their intention to pass a few weeks, and finally to change it for a permanent home in Minnesota. They had given Recta timely notice of their coming, and, had she had no interruption, the housekeeper's preparations would indeed have been elaborate. She had received and answered Daddy's letter favorably, and was in daily expectation of a second communication from the same source. The plan which she had arranged in her own mind was to remain until after the arrival of the family, and then to spend a few weeks with a married sister, whose assistance she would require in the preperation of her bridal outfit. As a general thing Recta's head was pretty clear, but in this case, she did not count upon the proverbial impetuosity of a widower, and, consequently, signally failed. One bright morning, when all the bed and table linen, and every bleachable thing to be found in the house, were spread upon the grass; when feather beds and blankets, and carpets, were hung out to air; when soap-suds and white-wash stood side by side; when the china closet had disgorged its treasures, and the silver was spread out for extra polishing; when all the ingredients for a mammoth fruit cake were marshalled on the kitchen table; when chairs and other furniture were gathered in clusters, as if discussing the general uproar; when poor old Lilly Foot had been driven forth with a sharp reproof and a cold breakfast, and forlorn kitty, hid away in a dark corner, where only her green eyes were visible, mewed disconsolate, a loud knock was heard at the door. "I do wonder who is going to hinder me now?" fretted Recta, as lifting her dripping hands from her scrubbing suds, and drying them upon her apron she obeyed the summons. At the first glance at the intruder she recognized Daddy, and turning pale and then red by turns, she sank speedily into a chair. How changed were both since they last met. She was then a blooming, brown haired, rather coquettishly dressed country girl, and he black haired, dapper and gay. Now he beheld her in faded calico, sallow, wrinkled and grey; and she looked upon a white haired, shrivelled up, little old man. Both were for the moment, silent and disappointed, but Daddy was the first to recover his presence of mind. "'Tween you and me, don't you know me, Recta?" "Well, I reckon I do, Philip," said Recta instinctively covered her face with her apron. A smile of delight broke over Daddy's features, and his first disappointment was forgotten. "That's jest as you used to sarve me, Recta; now I'm agoin fur tu sarve you one of my old tricks," and, by an adroit movement to which he encountered a very slight resistance, Recta's features were again visible. There was a deep red spot on either cheek, and she looked rather foolish, but it was not long before the old lovers were living over again their youthful hours.