Clear through the months that led us up to the door of October, these almost daily annoyances troubled me. It was not love-making, for since the day of my righteous indignation he had not ventured to approach me on that ground; but any thought which came over him, sometimes regarding his pictures and sometimes a saying of Aunt Hildy's,--anything which could be found to talk upon, it seemed to me, he made a pretext to detain me, and since he did this in a gentlemanly manner, how could I avoid it! It was a perfect bore to me, and yet I thought it too foolish a trouble to complain of. That was not the summer full of joy to which I had been looking, but it was full of work and care, and over all the mist of uncertainty. Hal's house had been built; it was a charming little nest, just enough room for themselves and with one spare chamber for company. "Don't git too many rooms nor too big ones," said Aunt Hildy. "If six chairs are enough, twenty-five are a bother. One loaf of bread at a time is all we want to eat. I tell you, Halbert, you can't enjoy more'n you use; don't get grand idees that'll put your wife into bondage. There are all kinds of slavery in this world," and between every few words a milk-pan went on the buttery shelf. She always worked and preached together. Hal had a nice room for his work; then they had a sitting-room, kitchen and bedroom down stairs, and two chambers. It was a cottage worth owning, and Clara, as usual, did something to help. "Allus putting her foot down where it makes a mark," said Aunt Hildy. She furnished Hal's room entirely, and gave Mary so many nice and necessary things that they were filled with thanksgiving. The marriage ceremony was performed at Deacon Snow's, and I cried every moment. I sat between Louis and Clara, notwithstanding Mr. Benton urged a seat upon me next himself; and on our return home he appeared to think I needed his special care, but I held close to Clara, and Louis, whose arm was his little mother's support, walked between us. He was sadly thoughtful, saying little. The wedded pair left our town next morning for a brief visit with Mary's friends, and returned in a few days to their little house, which was all ready for occupancy. Aunt Hildy and mother had put a "baking of victuals," according to Aunt Hildy, into the closet, and the evening of their return their own supper table was ready, with mother, Clara, Louis and me in waiting. Louis remarked on Mr. Benton's coming over, and I forgot myself and said, in the old way: "Can't we have one meal in peace?" Mother said: "Why, Emily, you are losing your mind; what would Hal think if Mr. Benton were left alone?" Father and Ben came over, but not till after supper, and Aunt Hildy persisted in staying at home and doing her duty. "Let him come, and stay, too," I added, still feeling vexed; and how strangely Louis looked as Mr. Benton came in. "Fairy land," he said. Mother made some reply, but I sat mute as my thought could make me.