nose reproachfully, and saying, “She _scratches_!” and I had scratched him, and I was glad of it; but Curly Dick said it was all for love, and that he had seen me hide the handful of hair I had torn off David’s pate, that I might carry it off home to have it made into a locket. Before the forfeits were well paid, supper was ready, and in spite of my ill-usage, Cousin David would be my cavalier again; he was a good-humoured young giant, very like his sister Mary, and I began to feel a little triumphant over him, in spite of his size, after my recent exploit, and when he talked, I talked again in my little way, except when I was listening to the healths being drunk, and thanks returned, after the country fashion at marriage festivities. Cousin Mary was in her place, with George Standish beside her, and I saw her give a little start and blush when “Mr. and Mrs. George Standish” were coupled together, but of all the fun to me old Mr. Jewson was now the greatest. He never raised his glass to his lips, which he did pretty frequently, without giving utterance to a _sentiment_: “May the man never grow fat who wears two faces under one hat!” or something of a similar character, and on the name of an individual, who was not popular in the district, being mentioned, he drunk again, prefacing it with, “Here’s a porcupine saddle and a high trotting horse to that fellow!” to which several responded with gruff “Amens!” Supper did not last so long as tea, and when it was over, some one said Cousin Mary and George Standish were going home, and when most of us returned to the kitchen and parlour, they disappeared; Mary going upstairs with her mother, sister, and cousins to make ready. But we watched the start from one of the windows, where we had drawn the curtains back. The moon was up, and the wind had broken and scattered the clouds, so we saw them mount their horses, for they had three miles to ride, and David and Joseph were to set them part of the way. In the midst of a chorus of “good-byes,” and “God bless you, Marys,” they rode away, Mary never looking up, that I could see, from the moment her husband had lifted her into the saddle; but I don’t think she was crying. Her mother cried, though, but not long; the duties of hostess soon dried her tears, and she was busy trying to set us all dancing again, while Curly Dick marched up and down the room, trolling out a love-song in the mellowest voice I ever remember to have heard. There were more dances, and more games, and then the cousins returned frosty-faced and livelier than ever to join us, and so we went on and on, the hours slipping by uncounted, until a message came from Long Tom that our time was up, and he was wanting to take his horses home.