On this occasion, as if Nature had resolved to do her best, the day was soft and sunny as in early autumn, presenting a striking contrast to the wild, angry storm which rent the sky when once more ’neath Uncle Joshua’s roof a bridal party was assembled.

The fact that the letter was already written only made the serpent-tooth of Joshua’s intimate knowledge cut the deeper. She has it all made up for him to marry her, and she is certainly as happy as she is and he is themselves. She is making plans at a great rate and she has consented to have her wedding here because she wants to be there herself.

In Uncle Joshua’s home there were sad, troubled faces and anxious hearts, as the husband and daughter watched by the wife and mother, whose life on earth was well-nigh ended. From her mother’s family Mrs. Middleton had inherited the seeds of consumption, which had fastened upon her. Day by day, they watched her, and when at last she left them it seemed so much like falling away to sleep that Mr.

This, then, was the letter which affected Fanny so, and called all of Uncle Joshua’s biggest oaths into use. Mrs. Middleton tried to calm her husband and remind him of his promise not to swear. "I know it," said he, "I know I promised not to swear, and for better than two months I hain’t swore, but I can’t help it now. And yet I expected it.

Middleton’s cheeks, as he added emphatically, "and by Jehu, if Sunshine goes, old Josh’ll bust up and go, too!" The winding up of Uncle Joshua’s story was so odd and unexpected that all the gentlemen, Mr. Stafford included, laughed loudly. "’Tain’t no laughin’ matter, boys," said Mr. Middleton, "and so you’ll all think if you ever have a gal as sweet and lovin’ like as Sunshine." Here Mr.

But as the next day was the Sabbath, the gentlemen declined the invitation, and bidding the host "good-bye," they were soon on their way homeward, each declaring that he had seldom spent a pleasanter day. As they can undoubtedly find their way to Frankfort without our assistance, we will remain at Uncle Joshua’s together with Mr. William Middleton and Ashton.

That night was fast merging into the hours of morning ere the sound of Uncle Joshua’s footsteps ceased, as again and again he traversed the length and breadth of his sleeping room, occasionally stopping before the window and peering out in the darkness toward the spot where he knew lay that newly-made grave.

Oh, I didn’t or’to do so, I didn’t; and I ain’t goin’ to any more. You shall live with me when Sunshine’s gone; and we would be so happy, if your poor mother could only see us and know it all." From that time nothing could exceed Uncle Joshua’s kindness to his daughter. He seemed indeed trying to make up for the past, and frequently he would whisper to himself, "No, I didn’t or’to do so.

If it hadn’t been, she might have led an entirely different lifein fact, she would most certainly have lived somewhere else, for she couldn’t possibly have lived with Aunt Mary. The hour that ensued after Joshua’s departure was so long that it resulted in a nap for the invalid, and Lucinda had to wake her by slamming the closet door when the arrival turned in at the gate. "Has he got her?"

Lucinda scurried. She splashed and spattered down through the lane that led to Joshua’s kingdom with a vigor that was commendable in one of her age. "She says ’don’t unharness,’" she panted, bouncing in through the doorway just as Joshua was slowly and carefully folding the lap-robe in the crease to which it had become habituated. Joshua continued to fold.