“Go try for yourself at once, Dick. He is in his study. He has just got through his morning papers, and is enjoying his pipe. The opportunity is highly auspicious. Go at once, Dick. You will never find him in a more favorable mood.” “I’m off this instant. Heaven bless you, Drusilla, and make you as happy as I hope to be,” exclaimed Richard Hammond, dropping his fishing tackle, and dashing away to put his destiny to the test. Drusilla hastened after her baby’s carriage, overtook it, and continued to walk beside it, and guard it for more than an hour longer. She had just turned with it towards the house when she was met by Dick, who was hastening to greet her. “Oh, Drusa, Drusa, dear Drusa, it is all right now. And all through you! And I came to tell you so, and to thank you, even before I go to tell Anna!” exclaimed Dick, with his face all beaming with happiness. And he seized and kissed Drusilla’s hand, and then darted off again, in search of Anna. And thus through Drusilla’s intervention, was Richard Hammond’s probation commuted, and the marriage of the lovers appointed to be celebrated about the middle of May. Meanwhile Drusilla had written to “mammy,” offering to her the situation of housekeeper, and to her husband that of head gardener at Cedarwood. She had directed her letter to the care of the Reverend Mr. Hopper, at Alexandria, feeling sure that it would by this means safely reach the hands of the nurse. In due time Drusilla received an answer, badly written and worse spelt, yet sufficiently expressive of “mammy’s,” sentiments on the subject. She thanked Mrs. Lyon from the bottom of her heart, and would gladly take the place and try to do her duty by the mistress. And likewise her old man. She never expected to have such a piece of good fortune come to her and her old man in the old ages of their lives. Which it had just come in good time too, seeing as her last darter was agoing to marry and leave her and her old man alone. And besides, she herself was aged before her time, all along of spending all the days of her life in close, sick rooms. And she was mortially glad to leave the profession of sick nursin’ to younger and stronger wimmin. Which she was fairly pining for the country, where her childhood and youth had been passed. She had never been able to get reconciled to the town, although she had lived into it for thirty-five years, and she loved to feed chickens and take care of cows, and make butter and cheese. And as for her old man, it was the delight of his life to hoe and rake, and plant and sow, and weed and trim gardens and vineyards, and sich like. And she was sure they would both be happier than they had ever been in all their lives before. And she prayed Heaven to bless the young madam who had taken such kind thoughts of them in their age, to insure them so much prosperity and pleasure. CHAPTER IX. A MAY-DAY MARRIAGE.