But Louis, ah! he should have stood beside a princess, I thought. It was contrast, not comparison, when I stopped to realize the difference. It was not his garb that made him regal, for he was clad in a suit of simple black with a vest and necktie of spotless white. "A violet or two in your coat lappel?" said Clara. "No, no, little mother; my royal rose begirt with violets will stand beside me. Put them in your own brown hair." And he smiled, as taking them from her hand he placed them in her hair. "Just a veil over your head, little mother; no bonnets among the wedding party." Aunt Hildy insisted at first that she could not "parade around that church and stand up there before the minister. I'd feel like a reg'lar idiot, Louis." At last she changed her mind, but preferred to walk with Ben, and he, who always loved her well, did not object. So our entrance by one of the side aisles (the body of the church was filled with pews) was in the following order: Father, mother and Clara, Louis and Emily, Hal and Mary, and Ben and Aunt Hildy. The latter would walk to the church anyway, and when our old carryall reached the door, I felt like screaming to see her sitting there on the steps fanning herself with her turkey-feather fan and waiting for us to appear. We all entered with uncovered heads, and as our feet crossed the threshold the choir sang one verse of "Praise ye the Lord." Mr. Davis had descended from his pulpit and stood before it upon a little elevated platform arranged for special occasions. Mother, father and Clara passed him where he stood, leaving the place for Louis and myself before him, with Hal and Mary, Ben and Aunt Hildy at Louis' left. It was a short and beautifully-worded ceremony, and when my eyes, already moist, looked upward to the pulpit and noticed a drapery of rose and vine which encircled it, those same tears fell fast over my cheeks, and while Louis' "I will" fell as a clear and strong response upon the air, my own assent was given silently and with only a slight bowing of my head, my lips murmuring not a syllable. After pronouncing us man and wife, Mr. Davis, at Louis' request, gave an invitation to all our friends to call on us the following evening, and again the choir and the people sang sweetly and with great feeling, as, turning, we passed down the opposite aisle toward the door. When about half way to the door I was conscious of seeing Aunt Peg and Matthias; a moment more, and she with her white apron, and he with his high hat full of roses, were walking before us and throwing them in our path. When we reached the door they stepped to either side, and still throwing roses, Matthias said in a tone I shall never forget: "May de days do for ye jes' what we's doin' now, scatter de roses right afore ye clear to de end ob de journey." This touched our hearts, and when we got into the carryall all eyes were moist, and I of course was crying as if my best friend were dead. Aunt Hildy said: