I didn't catch sight of them till the next morning, and then I saw him head for the early train into the city, and her stand at the gate and watch him. And, my land, she was in a white dress and she didn't look twenty years old. So I went right straight over. "My dear," I says, "I dunno what your name is, but I'm your neighbor, and I dunno what more we need than that." She put out her hand--just exactly as if she was glad. She had a wonderful sweet, loving smile--and she smiled with that. So I says: "I thought moving in here with trunks, so, you might want something. And if I can let you have anything--jars or jelly-glasses or rubber rings or whatever, why, just you--" "Thank you, Miss Marsh," she says. "I know you're Miss Marsh--Mrs. Henslow told me about you." "The same," says I, neat. "I'm Mrs. Harry Beecher," she says. "I--we were just married last week," she says, neat as a biography. "So you was!" I says. "Well, now, you just let me be to you what your folks would want me to be, won't you?" says I. "Feel," I says, "just like you could run in over to my house any time, morning, noon or night. Call on me for anything. Come on over and sit with me if you feel lonesome--or if you don't. My side porch is real nice and cool and shady all the afternoon--" And so on. And wasn't that nice to happen to me, right in the middle of the dead of summer, with nothing going on? If you have lived in the immediate neighborhood of a bride and groom, you know what I am going to tell about. But if you haven't, try to rent your next house--if you rent--or try to buy your next home--if you buy--somewhere in the more-or-less neighborhood of a bride and groom. Because it's an education. It's an education in living. No--I don't believe I mean that the way you think I mean it at all. I mean it another way. To be sure, there were the mornings, when I saw them come out from breakfast and steal a minute or two hanging round the veranda before he had to start off. That was as nice as a picture, and nicer. I got so I timed my breakfast so's I could be watering my flower-beds when this happened, and not miss it. He usually pulled the vines over better, or weeded a little near the step, or tinkered with the hinge of the screen, or fussed with the bricks where the roots had pushed them up. And she sat on the steps and talked with him, and laughed now and then with her little pretty laugh. (Not many women can laugh as pretty as she did--and we all ought to be able to do it. Sometimes I wish somebody would start a school to teach pretty laughing, and somebody else would make us all go to it.) And I knew how they were pretending that this was really their own home, and playing proprietor and householder, just like everybody else. And of course that was pleasurable to me to see--but that wasn't what I meant.