“Allus putting her foot down where it makes a mark,” said Aunt Hildy.

She furnished Hal’s room entirely, and gave Mary so many nice and necessary things that they were filled with thanksgiving.  The marriage ceremony was performed at Deacon Snow’s, and I cried every moment.  I sat between Louis and Clara, notwithstanding Mr. Benton urged a seat upon me next himself; and on our return home he appeared to think I needed his special care, but I held close to Clara, and Louis, whose arm was his little mother’s support, walked between us.  He was sadly thoughtful, saying little.

The wedded pair left our town next morning for a brief visit with Mary’s friends, and returned in a few days to their little house, which was all ready for occupancy.  Aunt Hildy and mother had put a “baking of victuals,” according to Aunt Hildy, into the closet, and the evening of their return their own supper table was ready, with mother, Clara, Louis and me in waiting.  Louis remarked on Mr. Benton’s coming over, and I forgot myself and said, in the old way: 

“Can’t we have one meal in peace?”

Mother said: 

“Why, Emily, you are losing your mind; what would Hal think if Mr. Benton were left alone?”

Father and Ben came over, but not till after supper, and Aunt Hildy persisted in staying at home and doing her duty.

“Let him come, and stay, too,” I added, still feeling vexed; and how strangely Louis looked as Mr. Benton came in.  “Fairy land,” he said.

Mother made some reply, but I sat mute as my thought could make me.

The stage came.  Our first supper was pleasant both as a reality and as a type of their future.  Hal and Mary were truly married, and through the ensuing years their lives ran on together merged as one.  When we stopped to think over the years since his boyhood, to remember the comparatively few advantages he had enjoyed, the ill luck of my father in his early years, and his tired, discouraged way which followed,—­it was hard to realize the facts as they were.  Grandma Northrop often prophesied of Hal, saying to mother: 

“That boy’s star will rise.  I know his good luck will more than balance his father’s misfortune, and in your old age you will see him handsomely settled in life.”

It seemed as if the impulse of his youth had all tended to bring him where the light could shine on his art, and from the time he entered Mr. Hanson’s employ his good fortune was before him.  There is another thought runs by the side of this, and that is one induced by the knowledge of the great power of gold.  Mr. Hanson was a man of wealth and good business relations.  Liking Hal for himself, and interested in his art, it was easy for him to open many doors for the entrance of his work.  Mr. Benton was a help to Hal in his art, and his reward was immediate almost, for Hal had told me Will’s pieces had never been appreciated as now.  It was astonishing, too, how many people had money to buy these expensive treasures,—­but the sea was smooth.