"Well, it's all right now," said Mandy soothingly. "Is it?" asked Hiram, his face beaming with delight. The next instant there was a succession of peculiar sounds heard in the room. As Swiss came back from the kitchen door but one chair was needed for the happy couple, and an onlooker would have thought that chair was occupied by one person with a very large head, having light curly hair on one side and straight dark hair on the other, no face being visible. It was upon this picture that Mrs. Crowley looked as she opened the door leading into the kitchen and started to come into the room with a large pan full of cream. Astonished, she stepped backward, forgetting the two steps that she had just ascended. Flat upon her back she fell, the pan of cream drenching her from head to foot. "It's drownded I am! It's drownded I am!" she cried at the top of her voice. "What's the matter? How did it happen?" said Mandy, as she rushed into the room, followed by Swiss. "Shure it's thinkin' I was," moaned Mrs. Crowley, "when the milk fell on me." "Thinkin' of what?" cried Mandy sharply. "You couldn't have been thinkin' of your business." "Shure I was thinkin' of the day when Pat Crowley and I both sat in the same chair, forty years ago," said Mrs. Crowley, rising to her feet and wiping the cream from her eyes, and nose, and ears. During this time Swiss was busily engaged having a rich feast upon the cream left in the pan. Hiram appeared at the kitchen door to learn the cause of Mandy's absence. Raising her hands high in the air, Mrs. Crowley said, "Bless you, my darlints; may yer live long and may all the saints pour blessin's on yer hids." And with this invocation the poor old woman hobbled off to her room in the ell and was not seen again until the next morning. CHAPTER XXXIII. THE WEDDIN'S. The next day was Saturday. While the Pettengill family was at breakfast, Squire Rundlett arrived. He had driven over from Montrose with the partnership papers for Strout, Hiram, and Quincy to sign and also the will of the late Mrs. Hepsibeth Putnam. As he came into the kitchen he espied Mandy, and a broad smile spread over his face as he said, "Good morning, Miss Skinner, was that paper all right?" Mandy flushed scarlet but said nothing. "Honestly, Miss Skinner," said the Squire, "I think it was a very sensible act on Hiram's part. If men were obliged to put their proposals in writing there wouldn't be any more breach of promise cases." "I think he was a big goose," finally ejaculated Mandy, laughing in spite of herself. "At any rate," continued the Squire, "he knew how to pick out a smart, pretty little woman for a wife;" and he raised his hat politely and passed into the dining-room. Here he was asked to have some breakfast. He accepted a cup of coffee, and, while drinking it, informed Quincy and Alice of the twofold purpose of his visit.