When it was over, Sandy and Ruth drove away in the old town surrey, followed by such a shower of rice and flowers and blessings as had never been known before.  They started, discreetly enough, for the railroad-station, but when they reached the river road Sandy drew rein.  Overhead the trees met in a long green arch, and along the wayside white petals strewed the road.  Below lay the river, dancing, murmuring, beckoning.

“Let’s not be going to the city to-day!” cried Sandy, impulsively.  “Let’s be following the apple-blossoms wherever they lead.”

“It’s all the same wherever we are,” said Ruth, in joyful freedom.

They turned into the road, and before them, through the trees, lay the long stretch of smiling valley.