“Well, Arethusa,” the aunt said to the niece when they met the morning after her arrival, “I’m feelin’ better ’n I was last time you were here.”

“I’m so glad,” yelled Arethusa.

“They’ll live in New York and I’ll live with them.  As far as I’ve seen there ain’t no other place on earth to live.  I’m goin’ to get me a coat lined with black-spotted white cat’s fur and have my glasses put on a parasol handle, and I’m going to have the collars and sleeves left out of most of my dresses an’ look like other people.  I’m a great believer in doin’ as others do, an’ Jack won’t ever have no cause to complain that I didn’t take easy to city life.”

Arethusa felt herself dumb before these revelations.

Later she was conducted to see the wedding presents, which were gorgeous.  Among them was the biggest and brightest of crimson automobiles; and Mitchell, who had presented it, had christened it beforehand “The Midnight Sun.”  Aunt Mary’s gift was the New York house and money enough for them to live on the income.

“I know you’re able to look out for yourself,” she told the bride, “but I don’t want Jack to have to worry over things at all, and, although I know it’s a good habit, still I shouldn’t like to have him ever work so hard that he wouldn’t feel like goin’ around with us nights.  Not ever.  Not even sometimes.”

Mitchell was overjoyed at the way things had turned out.

“My dear Miss Watkins,” he screamed, when he was ushered into Aunt Mary’s presence, “who could have guessed in the hour of that sad parting in New York that such a glad future was held in store for us all!”

“I didn’t quite catch that,” Aunt Mary exclaimed, rapturously, “but it doesn’t matter—­as long as you got here safe at last.”

“Safe!” exclaimed the young man; “it would have been the very refinement of cruelty if my train had smashed me on this journey.”

Burnett was equally happy.

“I suppose it will be up to me to give you away,” he said to his sister; “before all these people, too.  What a mean trick!”

Jack had thought that he would like to have Tweedwell marry him, as that young man had put in the summer vacation getting ordained.  Tweedwell accepted—­although he had just taken charge of a living in Seattle and came through on a flyer which arrived two hours before the hour.  Some fifty or sixty of the guests came in on the same train, and Burnett and Clover met them all at the cars and made the majority comfortable in the different hotels and honored the minority with Aunt Mary’s hospitality.

The day was gorgeous.  The addition to the house was done and lined with white and decorated in gold.  An orchestra was ensconced behind palms just as orchestras always covet to be and a magnificent breakfast had been sent up from the city in its own car with its own service and attendants to serve it.