"I hope not," said her father from the doorway.

"Yes, I am," said Dimple, as her uncle carried her into the parlor, and held her on his knee. "Uncle Heath, are you very happy?"

"Indeed, I am," said he, laughing, as did Dimple's papa and mamma.

"Quite a home thrust," said her papa.

"The reason I asked," she went on, playing with her uncle's watch chain, "is, that I heard papa say the other day, 'I am so glad for dear old Heath.'"

"He has reason to be," responded her uncle. "Dimple, how should you like a new aunt and cousin?"

"Oh, uncle! Is it Rock?"

"Well, not Rock altogether," laughed he. "Rock's mother, as well."

"Please tell me, Uncle Heath."

"So I will, little girl. Rock's mother is going to be your grey-headed uncle's wife. That makes Rock your cousin, doesn't it?"

"Yes," said Dimple, cuddling up to him, "but you are not grey-headed, Uncle Heath, only grey-templed," she said, softly patting each side of his face.

"She seems perfectly satisfied," said he, looking at his brother.

"Perfectly," he answered. "You could not have pleased her better."

"But, Uncle Heath," said Dimple, "I didn't know you knew Mrs. Hardy."

"I knew her long ago, when she wasn't Mrs. Hardy, but Dora West. Long ago," he repeated, gently stroking her hair.

"Why didn't you marry her then?"

"I wanted to," said he, simply, "but I couldn't. Do you want to be bridesmaid, Dimple?"

"Oh, uncle! Could I?"

"Yes, indeed; and Rock groomsman. We are such a young, frivolous couple, we couldn't think of having a grown-up young lady for bridesmaid."

Dimple laughed, and sat in supreme content on her uncle's knee till the breakfast bell rang.

"Florence, I know all about it," she cried, as Florence came in, "and I am going to be bridesmaid, and I know why Uncle Heath is happy, and why Rock can be my cousin. Isn't it lovely?"

Florence looked puzzled, but after a clearer explanation agreed with Dimple that it was "perfectly lovely."

Rock came over after breakfast, with a message for Mrs. Dallas, and Dimple ran out to meet him, crying, "Oh, Rock! your papa is here, and you are going to be my cousin, really and truly. Did you know it?"

"Yes, I knew," said he, "and I'm real glad. Where is Mr. Dallas?"

"My Uncle Heath, or papa?"

"Your Uncle Heath."

"He has gone to see your mamma, I think. And oh, Rock! we are going to be bridesmaids, you and I. No, I mean I am going to be bridesmaid, and you groomsman."

"Yes, and something else I know, too," said Rock. "While mamma goes on her wedding trip I am to come here to stay."

"Oh! Rock," exclaimed Dimple, clapping her hands, "that will be lovely, too. How long?"

"Three days, I think."

"Won't we have good times?" laughed Dimple, dancing up and down. "Do come sit down and talk about it. Are you glad you are going to have my Uncle Heath for your papa?"

"Yes, indeed," said Rock.

"And are you going to live here?"

"No, in Baltimore."

"Oh, dear, that is all that spoils it."

"Never mind," said Rock. "I shouldn't wonder if we were to come here summers, and I'll tell you, Dimple, maybe your mother will let you come visit us next winter, and I will take you sleighing."

That comforted Dimple somewhat.

"Where is the wedding to be? I never thought to ask," said she.

"At church, at half-past nine Thursday morning. Then we come back to your house to breakfast, and mamma and Mr. Dallas go away on the twelve o'clock train."

"When you say Mr. Dallas I think you mean my papa," said Dimple. "I wish you would call Uncle Heath papa."

"But he isn't my papa yet."

"Well, three days doesn't make much difference, and you need only say it to me."

"Well! papa and mamma," said Rock, laughing, "will be back Sunday evening, and Monday we all go away."

"Don't talk about that part of it. I don't want to think of it."

Here Dimple's mamma called her, and she went upstairs. "Wait till I come back, Rock," she said, as she went out, "I want to talk some more."

"What do you want with me, mamma?" she asked as she entered her mamma's room.

"I want to try on your bridesmaid frock."

"Oh, mamma! Is that it?" she exclaimed, as her mamma lifted a soft white mull from the bed.

"Yes, and you are to wear a white hat and carry a basket of flowers.

Isn't it odd that my little daughter should be bridesmaid for some one who was once her mamma's bridesmaid, and who used to play with her when she was a little girl?"