Miss McDonald - Page 64/65

It is just a year since she came back to us again. We were in the old

house then, but somehow Daisy's very presence seemed to brighten and

beautify it, until I was almost sorry to leave it last April for this

grander place with all its splendor.

There was no wedding at all; that is, there were no invited guests, but

sure, never had bride greater honor at her bridal than our Daisy had,

for the church where the ceremony was performed, at a very early hour in

the morning, was literally crowded with the halt, the lame, the maimed,

and the blind; the slums of New York, gathered from every back street

and by-lane and gutter; Daisy's "people," as she calls them, who came to

see her married, and who, strangest of all, brought with them a present

for the bride, a beautiful family Bible, golden-clasped and bound, and

costing fifty dollars. Sandy McGraw presented it, and had written upon

the fly leaf: "To the dearest friend we ever had we give this book as a

slight token of how much we love her." Then followed upon a sheet of

paper the names of the donors and how much each gave. Oh, how Daisy

cried when she saw the ten cents and the five cents and the three cents

and the one cent, and knew how it had all been earned and saved at some

sacrifice for her. I do believe she would have kissed every one of them

if Guy had permitted it. She did kiss the children and shook every hard,

soiled hand there, and then Guy took her away and brought her to our

home, where she has been ever since, the sweetest, merriest, happiest

little creature that ever a man called wife, or a woman sister. She does

leave her things round a little, to be sure, and she is not always ready

for breakfast. I guess she never will wholly overcome those habits, but

I can put up with them now better than I used to. Love makes a vast

difference in our estimate of others, and she could scarcely ruffle me

now, even if she kept breakfast waiting every morning, and left her

clothes lying three garments deep upon the floor. As for Guy--but his

happiness is something I cannot describe. Nothing can disturb his peace,

which is as firm as the everlasting hills. He does not caress her as

much as he did once, but his thoughtful care of her is wonderful, and

she is never long from his sight without his going to seek her.