A week before the wedding Florence, who loved dearly to be in a bustle, came laden with bandboxes and carpet bags.  Hourly through the house rang her merry laugh, as she flitted hither and thither, actually doing nothing in her zeal to do everything.  She had consented to be bridesmaid on condition that she should choose her own groomsman, who she said should be “Uncle Billy,” as she always called Mr. William Middleton, “unless Providence sent her some one she liked better.”  Whether it were owing to Providence or to an invitation which went from Florence to New York we are unable to say, but two days before the 24th Uncle Joshua surprised Florence and Fanny by opening the door of the room where they were sitting, and saying, “Ho, my boy, here they be—­come on.”

The girls started up, and in a moment Frank stood between them, with an arm thrown around each.  “Why, Mr. Cameron,” said Florence, “what did you come for, and who knew you were coming?”

“I came to see you, and you knew I was coming,” answered Frank.

“Well, then,” returned Florence, “if you came to see me, do look at me, and not keep your eyes fixed so continually on Fanny.  In a few days you will be breaking the commandment which says:  ’Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s wife.’”

“Possibly I might had I never seen you,” answered Frank.

At a late hour that night Florence moved with soft footsteps about her sleeping room, fearing lest she should awaken Fanny.  Her precautions were useless, for Fanny was awake; looking at Florence, she said, “Oh, Flory, you naughty girl, what makes you blush so dreadfully?”

The next half hour was spent by Florence in telling Fanny what Frank had just asked her in four or five words, and which she had answered in one, viz., if she would be his wife.  “But then,” said Florence, pretending to pout, “he was so conscientious that he had to tell me what I already knew, which was that he once loved you better than he should ever love another.”

Frank had asked Florence to share his lot through life, and she, like any other good, prompt Kentucky girl, had readily answered “yes,” although she was frightened next moment for fear she had been too easily won by the “cold Yankee,” as she called him, and she proposed taking back what she said just for the sake of being teased.  Mr. Woodburn came next day to bring Florence some article of dress, which she would need.  He was not surprised when Frank, taking him aside, modestly asked for his daughter; he said, “Yes,” almost as readily as Florence had done, and then it was hard telling which seemed most happy—­Frank or Dr. Lacey.

The 24th of December came at last.  We at the North who, during six months of the year, blow our benumbed fingers, can scarcely imagine how bright and beautiful are some of the clear warm days of a Kentucky winter.  On this occasion, as if Nature had resolved to do her best, the day was soft and sunny as in early autumn, presenting a striking contrast to the wild, angry storm which rent the sky when once more ’neath Uncle Joshua’s roof a bridal party was assembled.