filled the other.  Not a member of the company started homeward until the bridal party was seen climbing the hill in the distance, but waited, commenting upon the great event of the morning, and speculating upon the future of the pair whose marriage they had witnessed.  There was not a woman in the crowd who did not believe in Jim; and all were glad that the little tailoress had reached so pleasant and stimulating a change in her life.

When the voyagers had passed beyond the scattered farm-houses into the lonely country, Jim, with his wife’s help, released himself from the collar and cravat that tormented him, and once more breathed freely.  On they sped, shouting to one another from carriage to carriage, and Mike Conlin’s humble house was reached in a two hours’ drive.  There was chaffing at the door and romping among the trees while the horses were refreshed, and then they pushed on again with such speed as was possible with poorer roads and soberer horses; and two hours before sunset they were at the river.  The little woman had enjoyed the drive.  When she found that she had cut loose from her old life, and was entering upon one unknown and untried, in pleasant companionship, she was thoroughly happy.  It was all like a fairy story; and there before her rolled the beautiful river, and, waiting on the shore, were the trunks and remnants of baggage that had been started for their destination before daylight, and the guides with their boats, and with wild flowers in their hat-bands.

The carriages were dismissed to find their way back to Mike Conlin’s that night, while Jim, throwing off his coat, assisted in loading the three boats.  Mr. Balfour had brought along with him, not only a large flag for the hotel, but half a dozen smaller ones for the little fleet.  The flags were soon mounted upon little rods, and set up at either end of each boat, and when the luggage was all loaded, and the passengers were all in their places—­Jim taking his wife and Miss Snow in his own familiar craft—­they pushed out into the stream, and started for a race.  Jim was the most powerful man of the three, and was aching for work.  It was a race all the way, but the broader chest and harder muscles won.  It was a regatta without spectators, but as full of excitement as if the shores had been fringed with a cheering crowd.

The two women chatted together in the stern of Jim’s boat, or sat in silence, as if they were enchanted, watching the changing shores, while the great shadows of the woods deepened upon them.  They had never seen anything like it.  It was a new world—­God’s world, which man had not marred.

At last they heard the barking of a dog, and, looking far up among the woods, they caught the vision of a new building.  The boys in the boats behind yelled with delight.  Ample in its dimensions and fair in its outlines, there stood the little woman’s home.  Her eyes filled with tears, and she hid them on Miss Snow’s shoulder.