Billy made good time in spite of the fact that he had been out all day on parishional work, but he knew who he was hauling, and seemed to take deep satisfaction in having Hazel back again, for now and again he would turn back towards the wagon¹ when they stopped for water and whinny happily.  
They reached the stopping place about nine o'clock, and the news that the missionary² was going to be married spread like wildfire among the men and out to the neighbouring shacks³. In no time a small crowd had collected about the place, peering out of the starlit darkness.
 
Hazel retired⁴ to the forlorn little chamber⁵ where she had spent the night before and rummaged⁶ in her trunk for bridal apparel. In a few minutes she emerged into the long dining-room where the table had been hastily cleared and moved aside, and upon which the boarders were now seated in long rows, watching the proceedings⁷ curiously⁸.
 
She was dressed in a simple white muslin, touched here and there with exquisite⁹ hand embroidery¹⁰ and tiny cobwebby edges of real lace. The missionary caught his breath as he saw her come out to him, and the rough faces of the men softened¹¹ as they watched her.
 
The white-haired bishop¹² arose to meet her and welcomed her in a fatherly way he had, and the woman who kept the stopping place came following in Hazel's wake, hastily wiping her hands on her apron¹³, and casting it behind her as she entered. She had been preparing an impromptu¹⁴ supper out of any materials that happened to be at hand, but she could not miss the ceremony if the coffee did burn. Weddings did not come her way every day.
 
In the doorway¹⁵, his stolid¹⁶ face shining in the glare of many candles, stood the Indian from the fort. He had followed silently behind the couple to witness the proceedings, well knowing he would be forgiven by his mistress at the fort when he told his news. The missionary was well beloved—and the missionary was going to be married!
 
What would the four hundred of her own select New York circle have said could they have seen Hazel Radcliffe standing¹⁷ serene¹⁸, in her simple gown, with her undecked golden hair, in the midst of that motley company of men, with only three curious slatternly women in the background to keep her company, giving herself away to a man who had dedicated¹⁹ his life to work in the desert? But Hazel's happy heart was serenely²⁰ unconscious of the incongruity²¹ of her surroundings, and she answered with a clear ring to her voice as the bishop asked her the questions: "I will." She was coming gladly to her new home.
 
It was her own ring, the ring she had given him, that John Brownleigh put upon her hand in token of his loyalty²² and love for her, the ring that for a whole year had lain next his own heart and comforted its loneliness because she had given it, and now he gave it back because she had given him herself.
 
Graciously she placed her small white hand in the rough awkward ones of the men............