“I never had such a good right before.  Now listen to reason.  You say this house is to be sold; and the furniture, for future housekeeping, is to be packed and stored; that you and Prue are to sail for Havre the first steamer in July; and who beside your husband is to attend to this, and to get you on board the steamer in time?”

“But, John!” laying her hand in expostulation upon his arm.

“But, Prudence!” he laughed.  “Is Deborah to go with us?  Shall we need her in our Italian palace, or are we to dwell amid ruins?”

“Nothing else would make her old heart so glad.”

“Marjorie and Mrs. Kemlo expect to go home to-morrow.”

“Yes.”

“Don’t you want Marjorie to stay and help you?”

“With such a valiant husband at the front!  I suspect you mean to create emergencies simply to help me out of them.”

“I’m creating one now; and all I want you to do is to be helped out—­or in.”

“But, John, I must go in and fix my hair.”

“Your hair looks as usual.”

“But I don’t want it to look as usual.  Do you want the bride to forget her attire and her ornaments?”

A blue figure with curls flying and arms outstretched was flying down towards them from the upper end of the path.

“O, Aunt Prue!  Mr. March has come over—­without Mrs. March, and he asked for you.  I told him Uncle John had come home, and he smiled, and said he could not get along without him.”

“John, you should have asked Mrs. March, too.”

“I forgot the etiquette of it.  I forgot she was your pastor’s wife.  But it’s too late now.”

“Prue!” Miss Prudence laid her hand on Prue’s head to keep her quiet.  “Ask Marjorie and Mrs. Kemlo and Deborah to come into the parlor.”

“We are to be married, Prue!” said John Holmes.

“Who is?” asked Prue.

“Aunt Prue and I. Don’t you want papa and mamma instead of Uncle John and Aunt Prue?”

“Yes; I do!  Wait for us to come.  I’ll run and tell them,” she answered, fleeing away.

“John, this is a very irregular proceeding!”

“It quite befits the occasion, however,” he answered gravely.  Very slowly they walked toward the house.

All color had left Miss Prudence’s cheeks and lips.  Deborah was sure she would faint; but Mrs. Kemlo watched her lips, and knew by the firm lines that she would not.

No one thought about the bridegroom, because no one ever does.  Prue kept close to Miss Prudence, and said afterward that she was mamma’s bridesmaid.  Marjorie thought that Morris would be glad if he could know it; he had loved Mr. Holmes.

The few words were solemnly spoken.

Prudence Pomeroy and John Holmes were husband and wife.

“What God hath joined—­”

Oh, how God had joined them.  She had belonged to him so long.

The bridegroom and bride went on their wedding tour by walking up and down the long parlor in the summer twilight.  Not many words were spoken.