And then dawned fair and clear the first day of September, bringing at five o'clock the bride and groom.
Respectfully lined up in the hall to meet them were Pete and Dong Ling: Pete with his wrinkled old face alight with joy and excitement; Dong Ling grinning and kotowing, and chanting in a high-pitched treble: "Miss Billee, Miss Billee--plenty much welcome, Miss Billee!" "Yes, welcome home, Mrs._Henshaw!_" bowed Bertram, turning at the door, with an elaborate flourish that did not in the least hide his tender pride in his new wife.
Billy laughed and colored a pretty pink.
"Thank you--all of you," she cried a little unsteadily.

"And how good, good everything does look to me! Why, where's Uncle William ?" she broke off, casting hurriedly anxious eyes about her.
"Well, I should say so," echoed Bertram.

"Where is he, Pete?
He isn't sick, is he ?" A quick change crossed the old servant's face.

He shook his head dumbly.
Billy gave a gleeful laugh.
"I know--he's asleep!" she caroled, skipping to the bottom of the stairway and looking up.
"Ho, Uncle William! Better wake up, sir.

The folks have come!" Pete cleared his throat.
"Mr.William isn't here, Miss--ma'am," he corrected miserably.
Billy smiled, but she frowned, too.
"Not here! Well, I like that," she pouted; "-- and when I've brought him the most beautiful pair of mirror knobs he ever saw, and all the way in my bag, too, so I could give them to him the very first thing," she added, darting over to the small bag she had brought in with her.