The village noises gradually subsided. Susan felt that the wedding had drawn off the idle children and the village loungers in another direction. Neither Nicholas nor Sarah spoke. There was no sound except the incessant and buzzing hum of the autumn flies in the sunny window. "It is a beautiful day, is not it, mother?" at length inquired Susan. "Yes, my dear; a beautiful sunshiny day," answered the dame, with a deep-drawn sigh. "I thought it was, for the flies buzz so. I am glad of it. It is a pity when a wedding comes on a bad day. I hope 'tis a good omen for poor George!" "I have heard say, that the duller the day, the brighter the marriage; not but what I wish well to George and his wife." "It would be very wrong in us not to pray for his happiness, mother; for I have not a word to say against his behaviour to me from first to last." "Jane Dixon is a lucky girl. He's sure to make a good husband, for he has good principles." "And he her first lover and all, too!" replied Susan. "She _is_ a lucky girl! I used to feel sorry for her, when first George slighted her for me; for I saw she did not laugh and joke with him as she did with the other men. Now 'tis her turn to be sorry for me, and perhaps she is, though she has given up calling to see me almost ever since I have been afflicted. But it was not to be wondered at, when she began to think of George again. That was one thing made me almost sure what would come to pass at last." "Why 'twas to be expected that things should fall out much as they have done. But I do not know how it was, when I found George seem so attentive and so constant for such a long time, I thought, mayhap, he would always go on as he did then. I believe it is the way with parents, they can't help fancying their own children something beyond other people's; and so I began to count George would never be looking out for any body else. However, 'tis my belief he will never love Jane Dixon, as he has loved my Susan." "If he does not yet, mother, he will soon. George will be sure to love his wife, and he will grow to love her better and better every day, and then he will quite forget me; but that is all as it should be. Do you think, mother, I shall ever forget him? I mean to try hard to do so; and I don't mean to talk over what has gone before, even with you, mother; and then do you think at last, mother, I shall quite forget to think of him, except as a friend?" "I hope you may, my child; but it is always harder for a woman to forget than it is for a man: and 'tis harder still for you, who have nothing to draw off your mind. I have often heard old folks say, that scarce anybody marries their first love; and, if that is true, many and many must have got over such things. But I can't justly say myself, for I never kept company with anybody but your father, and we have been married so long that I can't frame to myself a notion of anything but being his wife."