Albeit unused to the melting mood, Drop tears as fast as the Arabian trees Their med'cinable gum!" I was married last Tuesday. As the carriage rolled back along the sea front, and my darling husband's arm clasped my waist as tightly as a silver arm clasps you, little book, the old jingle came into my head: "Monday for health, Tuesday for wealth, Wednesday the best day of all." The nasty things predicted for the other days of the week do not matter a jot, do they? Well, thank God, I am healthy enough, and Harry says that we shall have plenty of money by and by. Given health and wealth, there remains but happiness, and that is of our own contriving. And I am happy. Of that there can be no manner of doubt. Of course, I should have enjoyed the pomp and circumstance of marriage in the parish church with its joy-bells, its laughing tears, its nice speeches, while the dear old rector beamed on me, and the good folk of R---- set their eyes a-goggle to see how I looked and how Harry carried himself. I flatter myself I should have made a pretty bride, and, as for Harry, even under the chilling influences of a registrar's office he had the air of a man who knows his own mind. How often, tittering at my thoughts, have I pictured my wedding-day long before Prince Charming hove in sight! And how different it all has been to the conceits of girlhood! When he did come, he hoisted an unknown flag and bore me off like any pirate. Then references to life in a hotel, not named, and the good-natured scrutiny of strangers "who knew us at once as a newly-married couple, though we tried to be offhand to each other." Later she described the beginning of housekeeping in London, "where all is so strange"; then a few phrases which sighed. I have come to hate the word "Miss." It is a constant reminder of the compact. Harry says it will not be long now before our marriage can be proclaimed; but meantime I always catch myself smiling graciously when a shop-walker hails me as "madam." There is a recognition in the word! "Miss" is only a trifle less endurable than the "my dear" of the theater, which I heard to-day for the first time. After some days there was a darker mood: