“You know,” he said, “that all these good people around us feel an interest very natural to those who are acquainted with everybody in their own little town.  They will enjoy our marriage in the church where all can come and none be slighted, and the evening after they can be invited to call on us at home.”

“Oh, Louis!” I said, “I would much rather go quietly over to Mr. Davis’.”

“Yes, Emily,” he replied, “to take one of our pleasant walks over the hill and step in there; but after all I can see how it will be wiser for us not to be selfish in this matter.  Never mind how we feel:  these friends of ours are of much account, and the many new thoughts that brighten their existence as well as our own must fall, I believe, on us as a people as well as individually.  A private wedding will cause unkind remarks, and perhaps unpleasant feelings, and idle conjectures may grow to be stern realities.  Let us avoid all this, and as we have heretofore been among them, let us still keep our vessel close to the shore of their understanding, though we may often drift out into the ocean unseen by them, and gather to ourselves the pearls of new and strengthening thought ‘Let him who would be chief among you be your servant.’  Do you understand me?”

“I do, Louis, and ‘Emily will do it,’ for she knows you are right; but I should never have thought of it; and now another important consideration.”

“The bridal robe?” said Louis.

“Yes,” I said, “just that; the thought of being elaborately dressed is distasteful to me as well as unsuited to our desires, for a wedding display would certainly arouse the spirit of envy if nothing more.”

“Trust that to little mother, Emily; she desires to have that privilege, I know.”

“Let it be so.”

And here we fixed the arrangement for the birthday and wedding day to be one; but it came on a Sunday, and hence the necessity of a talk with Mr. Davis, which resulted in the arranging for a short afternoon sermon, and after it the ceremony.  We were not to enter the church until the proper moment, and Ben said he could manage it, for when the minister began his last prayer he would climb the rickety ladder into the old square box of a belfry and hang out a yard of white cloth on a stick.

“And then,” he added, “you can jump right into the wagon and be there in three minutes.”

He was the most perfect boy to plan at a moment’s notice, but Louis told him not to hazard his life on the belfry ladder for we could manage it all without.

“And besides,” he said, “you, Ben, must walk into church with us; we are not going unprotected.  Hal and Mary, Ben and little mother, and Mr. Minot with his wife and Aunt Hildy.  That is the programme as I have it.”

You should have seen those eyes of the young farmer dilate with surprise as he gave a long and significant whistle and turned toward home, doubtless thinking to surprise Hal and Mary with this new chapter in his experience.