as best man), and a few close friends: Hillarys closest

had not been allowed to say just what she liked, would her daughter

have been there, leaning so gracefully on her shoulder, and looking

straight before her, with a smile that was almost mournful on her

Mr. Alfred again spoke of Italy, and of the glorious colors in

Italian scenery; the purple hills, the deep blue of the Mediterranean,

the azure of southern skies, whose brightness and glory could only

be surpassed in the north by the deep-blue eyes of a maiden; and he

said this with a peculiar intonation; but she who should have