With considerable of a to-do, Mrs. Norris announced the gift of a grandfather's clock. "There is no use, Nancy dear, in dragging it around from house to house, and I'm having it sent to your new one." Accordingly, when the expressman announced its arrival everyone proceeded to the little colonial house in Tutors' Lane. Then difficulties arose. To begin with, it was too tall for any room in the house; and after a great deal of staggering around with it, trying it first in this place and then in that, a gorgeous wooden plume which stuck up from its head had to be removed. Then it was discovered that there were no works in it, Mrs. Norris having bought only the case, supposing of course that the thing was complete. When finally the parts had all been assembled and adjusted--which was in the second year of Tom's and Nancy's married life--it was learned that the ways of the clock were nearly as eccentric as those of its donor, for when it went at all, the hands made the downward journey with so much rapidity that they were exhausted at the bottom and in no condition for the return trip. The end came one morning when the clock, which was known as "Aunt Helen," was discovered to have died at six-thirty; and, all horological assistance having been summoned in vain, it was suffered to stand in its corner, untouched except by dust cloths, its hands forever pointing at six-thirty, an eloquent warning of the end of indolence. Although perhaps Mrs. Norris's contribution to the future life of our lovers was not distinguished by that perfect satisfaction which we all strive to furnish with our wedding gifts, her services at the wedding itself were invaluable. Nancy naturally turned to her for assistance with the thousand and one preliminaries that the bride's mother usually performs, and, moving in her own wondrous ways, Mrs. Norris saw to everything. The night before the wedding arrived, and she gave a dinner for the bridal party. As, after considerable discussion, Nancy had consented to have the reception at the Norris house, Mrs. Norris relieved the minds of her people in the kitchen by having a buffet supper--and using paper napkins. Nancy was grateful for this, for she was extremely tired, and the simpler everything could be, the better. So the supper was eaten all over the house and out on the terrace, and when the last paper napkin had been crumpled up, and the entire party had been brought together to drink the bride's health, and her future husband's, and their mutual healths, in the Dean's 1854 champagne, the party was whisked off up to the college church for rehearsal.