It was in vain that her mother talked of the cold church, and easterly winds, and the necessary lightness of a bridesmaid's attire.

Katie argued that the church was only two hundred yards off, that she never suffered from the cold, and that though dressed in light colours, as became a bridesmaid, she would, if allowed to go, wear over her white frock any amount of cloaks which her mother chose to impose on her.

Of course she went, and we will not say how beautiful she looked, when she clung to Linda in the vestry-room, and all her mother's wrappings fell in disorder from her shoulders.
So Linda was married and carried off to Normansgrove, and Katie remained with her mother and Uncle Bat.
'Mamma, we will never part--will we, mamma ?' said she, as they comforted each other that evening after the Normans were gone, and when Charley also had returned to London.
'When you go, Katie, I think you must take me with you,' said her mother, smiling through her tears.

'But what will poor Uncle Bat do?
I fear you can't take him also.' 'I will never go from you, mamma.' Her mother knew what she meant.

Charley had been there, Charley to whom she had declared her love when lying, as she thought, on her bed of death--Charley had been there again, and had stood close to her, and touched her hand, and looked--oh, how much handsomer he was than Harry, how much brighter than Alaric!--he had touched her hand, and spoken to her one word of joy at her recovered health.