The happiest month of Tom Seddon's life had rolled round,—the month preceding his marriage with the beautiful Ida. Toney Belton also seemed happy, and so did Rosabel, and the only discontented person in the Widow Wild's mansion was the widow herself. Nothing had been told her about the sale of the sand-hill; and the eight thousand dollars, the amount of gold which Toney acknowledged he had gathered by hard labor in the mines, made but a small portion of the sum necessary to constitute a fortune for a gentleman. The widow was dissatisfied with Fate on account of her hard dealings with Toney Belton.

Rosabel knew better. Under the injunction of secrecy, she and Ida had been made acquainted with the good fortune of their lovers, and knew that they were in the possession of wealth. Toney had considerable difficulty, however, to induce Rosabel to co-operate with him in his plans for giving the widow an agreeable surprise.

"Why not go to my mother and ask her to consent to our marriage?" said Rosabel. "She would interpose no objection, and you could inform her of your good fortune afterwards."

"Rosabel," said Toney, "when your mother, years ago, said, in my presence, with peculiar emphasis, that no man should marry her daughter who was not worth a hundred thousand dollars, I made a solemn vow never to ask her consent."

"You did?" exclaimed Rosabel.

"Yes; not even if I should some day be worth a million. I cannot break my vow."

"I must consult with Ida," said Rosabel.

"Do so," said Toney.

On the following day Tom and Ida were to be married. Toney and Rosabel were to accompany them to the church; and the widow would receive them at her house after the marriage ceremony was performed. Tom and the widow were alone in earnest conversation.

"I would not swop with Adam if he were here with his Eden," said Tom. "There could be but one addition to my happiness."

"What is that?" asked the widow.

"I have a friend who dearly loves a young lady, and has loved her all his life; but he is supposed to be poor."

"Well, what of that?" said the widow.

"He has not obtained her parent's consent to their marriage," said Tom.

"Is your friend a worthy man—a clever fellow?" asked the widow.

"He is, indeed," said Tom. "I know of but one man who is his equal in all noble qualities."

"Who is that?" asked the widow.

"Toney Belton," said Tom.

"If your friend is like Toney Belton, he is good enough to marry an emperor's daughter," said the widow.

"But the young lady's parent—her mother—may not consent on account of his poverty," said Tom.

"Let your friend marry the young lady, and obtain her mother's approbation afterwards," said the widow, with much decision in her tone.

"Is that your advice?" asked Tom.

"It is," said the widow. "A parent is a fool to object to a man who can be compared with Toney Belton."

"I want my friend to be married when I am," said Tom.

"Well, let him be married at the same time," said the widow.

"But where are they to go until the young lady's parent becomes reconciled?" asked Tom.

"Bring them here," said the widow; "I will welcome them; and they can remain here until the foolish mother becomes reconciled."

"I will do so," said Tom. And he hurried away to inform Rosabel and Toney of the widow's advice.

"You will not act contrary to your mother's wishes?" said Toney to Rosabel.

"Certainly not," said Rosabel, with a sweet smile. "I have always been her obedient daughter."

On the day appointed for the wedding, a carriage, containing Ida and Rosabel, Toney and Tom, was driven away from the widow's door to the church. In about an hour the Widow Wild heard the sound of wheels on the avenue, and rushed to the porch. As Tom handed Ida out, the widow caught the beautiful bride in her arms, and kissed her with tender affection. She congratulated the newly-married couple, and then said to Tom,—

"But where is your friend?"

"Here he is," said Tom, pointing to Toney, who was getting from the carriage.

"What! Toney?"

Tom nodded.

"Is Toney your friend?"

"He is, and ever has been, the best and noblest of friends," said Tom.

"But is Toney married?" cried the widow, turning pale.

"He is," said Tom.

"Where is his wife?" gasped the widow.

"Let me introduce you to her," said Toney, as he handed the blushing Rosabel from the carriage.

"What? Rosabel?"

"Rosabel," said Toney.

"Rosabel married?"

"Yes."

"To whom?"

"To Toney Belton."

The widow was speechless for a moment. She then took Toney and Rosabel each by the hand, and said,—

"Now, tell me,—are you two married?"

"We are indeed," said Toney.

The widow kissed Rosabel, and then threw her arms around Toney's neck and kissed him. And then Mrs. Wild blubbered out,—

"Toney, why did you do so?"

"I thought you would not let me have Rosabel."

"Toney Belton, you were a fool! You might have had Rosabel five years ago if you had asked me."

"Did you not always say that no man should marry your daughter unless he was worth a hundred thousand dollars?"

"And were you not worth a hundred thousand dollars five years ago?"

"I?"

"Yes;—you. A man with nobility of mind, and heart, and soul," said the widow, "is worth more than hundred thousand dollars to the woman who marries him; while many a mean fellow, who has a hundred thousand dollars in his possession, is not worth a pinch of snuff."