“Not now,” said the old man; “let us take nothing from her happiness. To-morrow our grandson will come to us, but now he belongs to her.” And so the old couple went quietly home together, thanking God all the way. One by one the persons who had witnessed the reunion of that husband and wife glided from the room; and for a few precious minutes they were alone together. But scarcely a word was said. They looked in each other’s faces, smiling, and yet with a shy sort of reserve, wondering at themselves that, having so much to say, sweet silence seemed pleasanter than words. “Yes, darling, you have changed, but only to become more lovely,” he said in answer to the fond question in her eyes. “And I—you would not have known me, I am certain.” “I had but to hear your voice, the tears blinded me so—now that I can see you, it is the same face, older, braver.” “But brother Louis is more like what I was. No wonder you took him for me.” “But I do wonder my eyes were traitors. How would they betray me so? but I only saw him from a distance, and to-night my distress—” Here Mrs. Oakley knocked at the door, interrupting them. “Come,” she said, “the people below are getting impatient. I want my bridesmaid. Louis is waiting for you in the other room, Mr. De Marke.” George De Marke went out, obediently, and then Mrs. Judson’s maid commenced a second toilet, to which Catharine submitted without protest; she was far too happy for anything like that. The bridal ceremony was delayed a little; and that was all the guests knew of the scene we have just described. Half an hour later there came forth from that chamber four persons so radiant with happiness, so grandly beautiful, that curiosity, if any had existed, was swallowed up in admiration. A murmur of surprise ran from lip to lip, for the moonlight beauty of the bride was exquisitely contrasted by the radiant loveliness of her bridesmaid, who was, it began to be whispered about, already married to the elder brother of the bridegroom, excellent matches both, for Madame De Marke, the mother, had left an immense fortune, which would be divided equally between the young men. The guests also observed that Mrs. Judson, the stately mother of the bride, lost somewhat of her queenly self-possession that night. She kept aloof from the wedding-party, and seemed shy of addressing the bridesmaid, while giving congratulations to her daughter and the newly married husband. But these things were only matters of passing comment, and no one guessed how deep a current of human joy was swelling beneath the commonplaces of this wedding. CHAPTER LXXVII. ABOUT THE LITTLE BOY.