"Did she bring home the body?" Mrs. Cummings asked after a moment, in a voice becomingly lowered. "Yes, she did," Aunt Naomi answered, with a chuckle of levity which seemed almost indecent. "She had a dreadful time finding out anything; but she had friends at Washington--her husband had cousins there, you know--and at last she got on the track." "Where was he buried?" Aunt Naomi paused to wag her foot and to nibble at the corner of her green veil in a way common to her in moments of excitement. She looked around in evident enjoyment of the situation. "He was n't buried anywhere," she said, with a grin. "Why not?" demanded Mrs. Wright excitedly. "Because he was n't dead." "Was n't dead?" "No; only taken prisoner. He was wounded, and he's been in Libby." "How is he now?" "Oh, he's all right now. He's coming over here to show himself, and see his friends." The words were hardly spoken when in the doorway appeared the well-known figure of Archie Lovell. He wore the uniform of a lieutenant, he was pale and worn, but handsomer than ever. On his arm was a blushing damsel in a hat with a white feather, her face all smiles and dimples. An exclamation went up from all over the room. "Why, it's Archie Lovell!" It was followed almost immediately by another:-- "And Nancy Turner's with him!" "No; it's Nancy Lovell," announced Aunt Naomi, in a voice audible all over the vestry. "They were married in Boston." The bridal couple advanced. All about the room the ladies rose, but instead of greeting the newcomers, they looked at the "three widows," and waited as if to give them first an opportunity of accosting their mate, thus returned as if from the very grave, and so inopportunely bringing another mate with him. Miss Burrage and Miss Foster shrank from sight behind the backs of those nearest to them; but Mattie Seaton swept impulsively forward with her hand extended cordially. Her crisp black hair curled about her temples, her eyes shone, and her teeth flashed between her red lips. "Why, Archie, dear," she said, in her clear, resonant voice, "we thought we had lost you forever. We all supposed you were dead, and here you are only married. Let me congratulate you, though after being engaged to so many girls, it must seem queer to be married to only one!--and you, Nancy," she went on, before Archie could make other reply than to shake hands; "to think you got him after all, just because you went ahead and caught him! I congratulate you with all my heart; only look out for him. He'll make love to every woman he sees." She bent forward and kissed the bride before Mrs. Lovell could have known her intention, and turned quickly. "Come, Delia," she called across the vestry; "come, Mary! There's nothing for us to do but to go home and take off our black. We may have better luck next time!"