Dawn was radiant with emotion at the union.  “Another life now enfolds me,” she said to her father, when they were alone for the first time after the ceremony.  “I knew she was coming; I felt it when we came home.  You did not seek it, father, it came to you; it was to be; and now as you have some one to sit by your side, I may roam a little, may I not?”

“Ah, yes; I remember a certain pair of eyes over the sea, which more than once flashed on a young lady who shall be nameless.”

Dawn suddenly interrupted this remark by the exclamation, “Ah, don’t, father, don’t!” and her tone struck him as sadly out of place for the time and occasion; so he said no more, but wondered at her strange, and to him at that moment, unaccountable manner.

“What a peculiar wedding,” said every one; “just like the Wymans, they never do anything like any one else.”

“What he found to admire in Miss Evans, is more than I can see,” said one of the busy-bodies who favored Miss Vernon with a call on a certain memorable morning.

“He’s a curious man,” said an old lady, between a yawn and a smile, “and nobody ever could understand him.”

These, and a hundred similar expressions equally unimportant, were heard, and then all was still again.

The new pair took up the deep current of their lives with united strength, and merged their efforts into one channel, each distinct, but flowing in time to the divine order, enriching each other’s lives.

CHAPTER XXIII.

Some lives are steady, with a continuous flow of discipline; other’s convulsive and terrible in their wild upheavings.  Slowly we learn the goodness of God’s mercy, which sends the storm that whitens our garments, making them pure as snow.  When our song should be praise, we fly here and there bemoaning our fate, crossing and re-crossing the path which leads into life, instead of walking therein, and following it out to its glorious goal.

Slowly we learn to take each day, and fill it with our best endeavor, leaving to-morrow to God.  Life’s experiences should teach us to find where our work begins and where it ends; but in our learning, how we project ourselves, and exalt our own little knowledge.

Like children, we meddle with our father’s tools, and so retard the blessing.  When we learn to work with God, then will our lives be in divine order, and flow deep and peaceful to the end.  Our impatient movements cut the threads in the heavenly warp, and the garment which was to enfold us is delayed in its making.

It has been said, “Man is his own worst enemy,” and life’s experience proves the truth of the assertion.  But our final success is born of our present failures.  It is in our efforts to ascend the stream, and thus rowing against the current, that we gain strength.  Without resistance life would be a negation, and our running, sparkling river, become a stagnant pool.