And here I sighed over and over, like a foolish virgin. "Now, then, listen. Here it is in the paper," said Laura. "'Married, at Grace Church, by the Rev. So-and-So, assisted, etc., etc., Ossian Smutt, Esq., of the firm of S. Hamilton & Company, to Ariana, eldest daughter of the late George S. Cooper. At the same place, and day, Hon. Unity Smith, M.C., to Geraldine Miranda, daughter of the late Russell Parker of Pine Lodge. The happy quartette have left in the Persia for a tour in Europe. We wish them joy.'" "Ugh! Laura! goodness! well, that outdoes me," I screamed, with a sudden sense of relief, that set me laughing as passionately as I had been crying. For, though I have not before owned it, I had been crying heartily. The Balm of a Thousand Flowers descended on my lacerated heart. To say the truth, I had dreaded more Ariana's little shrug, and Geraldine Parker's upraised eyebrows, on reading my marriage, than a whole life of _that_ name, on my own account merely. But now, thank Heaven, so much trouble was out of my way. Mrs. Unity Smith, and Mrs. Orlando--no, Ossian Smutt, could by no possibility laugh at me. Mrs. A. Sampson wasn't bad on a card. It would not smut one, anyhow. I laughed grimly, and composed myself to sleep. The next morning had come the pleasant letter from my Albany aunt, with the fifty-dollar note. Laura continued rocking, fifty strokes a minute, and stitching at the rate of sixty. I held the note idly, rubbing up my imagination for things new and old. Laura, being industrious, was virtuously employing her thoughts. As idleness brings mischief, and riches anxiety, I did not rock long without evil consequences. Eve herself was not contented in Eden. She had to do all the cooking, for one thing,--and angels always happening in to dinner! For my part, the name of Adam would have been enough to spoil my pleasure. Here Laura interrupted my thoughts, which were running headlong into everything wicked. "What do you say?" "What do you?" I answered; for, like other bad people, I had the greatest respect for good people's opinions. "I think--a small--silver salver!" "Do you think so, really?" "Yes, Del. That will be good; silver, you know, is always good to have; and it will be handsome and useful always." "What! for us?" "Yes,--pretty to hand a cup of tea on, or a glass of wine,--pretty to set in the middle of a long table with a vase of flowers on it, when you have the Court and High-Sheriff to dine,--as you will, of course, every year,--or with your spoon-goblet. Oh, there are plenty of ways to make a small silver salver useful. Mrs. Harris says she doesn't see how any one can keep house without a silver salver." The last sentence she said with a laugh, for she knew I thought so much of what Mrs. Harris said. "We've kept house all our lives without one, Laura." "Yes,--but I often wish we had one, for all that. As Mrs. Harris says, 'It gives such an air!'"