“Such a delightful surprise!” she panted, holding out her hand to the minister. “We are so glad to welcome--Why!--have you shown them to their rooms, Cornelia?” “They--they didn't come,” murmured Cornelia, retreating to her unfailing ally on the sofa. In the stress of the moment--for Cornelia was not ready for Marilla Merritt--it had seemed to her that the time for “lies” had come. She had even beckoned to the nearest one. But the ghosts of ministers' wives that had been and that were to be had risen in a warning cloud about her and saved her. “Didn't come!” shrilled Marilla Merritt in her astonishment. “His wife and children didn't come! Do you know what you are saying, Cornelia? You don't mean--Then I don't wonder you look flustered--” She caught herself up hurriedly, but her thoughts ran on unchecked. Of all things that ever! Could absent-mindedness go further than this--to marry a wife and forget to bring her home with him?--and _five children!_ Marilla Merritt turned sharply upon the minister. “Where is your wife?” she demanded, the frayed ends of her patience trailing from her tone. The minister crossed the room to Cornelia and the doll. He laid his big white hand gently on Cornelia's small white one. There was protective tenderness in the gesture and the touch. “I found her here waiting for me,” the minister said. THE END End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Quaint Courtships, by Various