"And he was right here in the place, too," chimed in Richard, "only he didn't seem to see her, so p'r'aps yours aren't far off, and we might get them in time to have the wedding to-night before you go. Wouldn't you like to be in a wedding, Aunt Lavinia?" "Mercy no, child, I'm too old!" she ejaculated, now as red as a Jacqueminot rose, while the boys ran off in the direction of Martha's, to ask her where it was best to begin this important quest, the prize for which was pink ice cream. Miss Lavinia did not look up for a moment, and when she did she found Martin's eyes fastened on her face, and in them a strange enlightenment that shook her like an electric bolt, as he arose and stood before her, saying:-- "You need never be old. Some prefer June strawberries and others September peaches, that is all. When once in June I thought to gather the strawberries, I found they belonged to another, for I loved your friend, who was Barbara's mother." "And I loved your friend, who is Barbara's father," Miss Lavinia said, rising and facing him. "As they married each other, why may not we? I know now why my work has prospered this summer and why life seems good again. Ian's little fancy shows me the truth." "Our Mr. and Mrs. were not far off, then," said she, laying her hand on his, while she looked into his face with one of those rare smiles of unreserved confidence that makes Lavinia Dorman more fascinating than half the younger women that I know. After a moment of romance they waked up to the fact of the present and its comical aspect; the boys' talk of weddings brought that necessary episode quickly before them. "May I tell the Doctor when he returns? Shall we tell them all?" asked Martin, eagerly, and Miss Lavinia sat suddenly down again and realized that she still was in the world of responsibilities. "I think I would rather wait and do it all at once, after--after the pink ice-cream," she said, as he laughed at her hesitation over the word. "I don't like keeping it from Barbara, but I'm so tired of talk and fuss and feathers and Mrs. Grundy." "Then let us get it quietly over next week, or tomorrow, if you say, unless you wish time to feel sure, or perhaps to think it over," said Martin, with enthusiasm. "Time to think it over!" cried Miss Lavinia, springing lightly to her feet. "No, I'm sure I don't wish to think, I want to act--to do things my own way and give no one a chance to speak until it is done. What have I been doing all my life but thinking, and waiting for it to be a convenient and suitable time for me to do this or that, wondering what others will think if I do or don't; thinking that the disagreeable was duty, often simply because it was disagreeable. Surely you have been hampered by this perpetual thinking too, and watching the thumb of custom to see if it pointed up or down. No, I'm done with it. We've agreed to be married, so why not this very afternoon, and have the wedding over before you go, as the boys suggested?"