The train arrived on time, and as Miss Wilson alighted from the car, I greeted her. How I gazed into those beautiful eyes and tried to read there the love I hungered for. We drove to the Hotel Brunswick for luncheon, and if "the proof of the pudding is in the eating," the luncheon, despite the good reputation of that old hostelry, then in its palmy days, must have been a poor one. Either that, or we lacked appetite--more likely the latter. After luncheon we again took the carriage, and drove to the pier where the _Mary Powell_ was awaiting her passengers. It was during that drive, while passing down Fifth Avenue, that the word I so longed to hear was spoken. "Yes"--only a single word and yet it spoke volumes to my heart. It bound together for all time two beings, neither of whom had known for longer than a few months even of the existence of the other, and yet a divine power had brought these two hearts, beating in unison, to their natural mate. While the lips whispered "yes," the hand found its way to mine and the loving clasp was the only demonstration the surroundings permitted; but when the carriage had turned into a comparatively quiet side street and just before it reached the pier, I could no longer refrain. Drawing the curtains at the carriage windows, I clasped to my heart the lovely girl who was now my very own. Oh, what an ecstasy of bliss that moment was! I have owned many handsome carriages, luxurious in their appointments, drawn by fine horses, but as I look back to that day of days, that shabby public hack, with its rough-looking driver, holding the reins over a pair of ill-fed animals, stands in my memory as almost ideal. Of course I did not leave my promised wife at the boat. There was no reason I should not take that delightful sail up the river with her, and there was every reason why I should. I sought out a secluded spot on deck and there, comparatively free from observation, we let our thoughts revel in our new-found happiness. It was possible, unseen, to occasionally clasp each other's hand, and in this way a sort of lover's wireless telegraph kept us in communication that emphasized to me the fact that my happiness was real and not a dream. Our conversation was not very animated; we were too happy to talk, and the beautiful scenery of the Hudson was lost to us on that occasion. To look into each other's eyes and read there all that was in our hearts was the supreme pleasure and happiness of the moment. When the boat arrived at West Point, Lieutenant Harper, then Professor of Spanish at the Academy, afterwards major, and since promoted to colonel for gallantry in the Philippines, met Miss Wilson at the landing. I had planned to at once take the ferry across the river--there was no West Shore Railroad at that time--and return to New York by train, but Lieutenant Harper insisted that I should dine with them and take a later train, which I did.