CHAPTER XII.
THE WEDDING
Lunch was served on the porch, for the tables for the wedding supperwere already spread in the dining-room, and Alec had locked the doorsthat nothing might disturb its perfect order.
"I think we are really going to be able to avoid that last wild rushwhich usually accompanies home weddings," said Mrs. Sherman, as they satleisurely talking over the dessert. "Usually the bridesmaids' gloves aremissing, or the bride's slippers have been packed into one of the trunksand sent on ahead to the depot. But this time I have tried to haveeverything so perfectly arranged that the wedding will come to pass asquietly and naturally as a flower opens. I want to have everything givethe impression of having _bloomed_ into place."
"Eliot and Mom Beck are certainly doing their part to make such animpression," said Eugenia. "Eliot has already counted over everyarticle I am to wear, a dozen times, and they're all laid out inreadiness, even to the 'something blue.'"
"Oh, that reminds me!" began Lloyd, then stopped abruptly. Nobodynoticed the exclamation, however, but Mary, and, with swift intuition,she guessed what the something blue had suggested to the maid of honor.It was that bit of turquoise that caused the only scramble in thepreparations, for Lloyd could not remember where she had put it.
"I was suah I dropped it into one of the boxes in my top bureau drawer,"she said to herself on the way up-stairs. Then, with her finger on herlip, she stopped on the threshold of the sewing-room to consider. Sheremembered that when she gave up her room to the guests, all the boxeshad been taken out of that drawer. Some of them had been put in thesewing-room closet, and some carried to a room at the end of the backhall, where trunks and hampers were stored.
Now, while Betty was down-stairs, helping with a few last details, Lloydtook advantage of her absence to search all the boxes in the closet anddrawers of the sewing-room, but the missing turquoise was not in any ofthem.
"I know I ought to be taking a beauty sleep," she thought, "so I'll beall fresh and fine for the evening, but I must find it, for I promisedPhil I'd wear it."
In the general shifting of furniture to accommodate so many guests,several articles had found their way back among the trunks. Among themwas an old rocking-chair. It was drawn up to the window now, and, asLloyd pushed open the door, to her surprise she found Mary Warehalf-hidden in its roomy depths. She was tilted back in it with a bookin her hands.
Mary was as surprised as Lloyd. She had been so absorbed in the storythat she did not hear the knob turn, and as the hinges suddenly creaked,she started half out of her chair.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, settling back when she saw it was only Lloyd. "Youfrightened me nearly out of my wits. I didn't know that anybody evercame in here." Then she seemed to feel that some explanation of herpresence was necessary.
"I came in here because our room is full of clothes, spread out ready towear. They're all over the room,--mine on one side and Joyce's on theother. I was so afraid I'd forget and flop down on them, or misplacesomething, that I came in here to read awhile. It makes the afternoon gofaster. Seems to me it never will be time to dress."
Lloyd stood looking at the shelves around the room, then said: "If timehangs so heavy on yoah hands, I believe I'll ask you to help me hunt forsomething I have lost. It's just a trifle, and maybe it is foolish forme to try to find it now, when everything is in such confusion, but itis something that I want especially."
"I'd love to help hunt," exclaimed Mary, putting down her book andholding out her arms to take the boxes which Lloyd was reaching downfrom the shelves. One by one she piled them on a packing-trunk behindher, and then climbed up beside them, sitting Turk fashion in theirmidst, and leaving the chair by the window for Lloyd.
"It's just a scrap of unset turquoise," explained Lloyd, as sheunwrapped a small package, "no larger than one of the beads on thisfan-chain. I was in a big hurry when I dropped it into my drawer, and Ididn't notice which box I put it in. So we'll have to take out all theseribbons and laces and handkerchiefs and sachet-bags."
It was the first time during her visit that Mary had been entirely alonewith her adored Princess, and to be with her now in this intimate way,smoothing her dainty ribbons, peeping into her private boxes, andhandling her pretty belongings, gave her a pleasure that wasindescribable.
"Shall I open this, too?" she asked, presently, picking up a packagewrapped in an old gauze veil.
Lloyd glanced up. "Yes; although I haven't the slightest idea what itcan be."
A faint, delicious odor stole out as Mary unwound the veil, an odor ofsandalwood, that to her was always suggestive of the "Arabian Nights,"of beautiful Oriental things, and of hidden treasures in secret panelsof old castles.
"I've hunted for that box high and low!" cried Lloyd, reaching forwardto take it. "Mom Beck must have wrapped it so, to keep the dust out ofthe carving. I nevah thought of looking inside that old veil foranything of any account. I think moah of what it holds than any othahornament I own."
Mary watched her curiously as she threw back the lid and lifted out anecklace of little Roman pearls. Lloyd dangled it in front of her,lifting the shining string its full length, then letting it slip backinto her palm, where it lay a shimmering mass of tiny lustrous spheres.Regarding it intently, she said, with one of those unaccountableimpulses which sometimes seize people:
"Mary, I've a great mind to tell you something I've nevah yet told asoul,--how it was I came to make this necklace. I believe I'll weah itwhen I stand up at the altah with Eugenia. It seems the most appropriatekind of a necklace that a maid of honah could weah."
The story of Ederyn and the king's tryst was fresh in Mary's mind, forBetty had told it at the lunch-table half an hour before, in answer toDoctor Bradford's question about the motto of Warwick Hall; the mottowhich Betty declared was a surer guide-post to the silver leaf of themagic shamrock than the one Abdallah followed.
"I can't undahstand," began Lloyd, "why I should be telling this to alittle thing like you, when I hid it from Betty as if it were a crime. Iknew she would think it a beautiful idea,--marking each day with a pearlwhen its duties had been well done, but I was half-afraid that she wouldthink it conceited of me--conceited for me to count that any of my dayswere perfect enough to be marked with a pearl. But it wasn't that Ithought them so. It was only that I tried my hardest to make the mostof them,--in my classes and every way, you know."
As Lloyd went on, telling of the times she had failed and times she hadsucceeded, Mary felt as if she were listening to the confessions of awhite Easter lily. It seemed perfectly justifiable to her that Lloydshould have had tantrums, and stormed at the doctor when he forbade hergoing back to school after the Christmas vacation, and that she shouldhave cried and moped and made everybody around her miserable for days.Mary's overweening admiration for the Princess carried her to the pointof feeling that everybody _ought_ to be miserable when she was unhappy.In Mary's opinion it was positively saintly of her the way she took upher rosary again after awhile, trying to string it with tokens of daysspent unselfishly at home; days unstained by regrets and tears and idlerepinings for what could not be helped.
Mary laughed over the story of one hard-earned pearl, the day spent inmaking pies and cleaning house for the disagreeable old Mrs. Perkins,who didn't want to be reformed, and who wouldn't stay clean.
"I haven't the faintest idea why I told you all this," said Lloyd atlast, once more lifting the string to watch the light shimmer along itslustrous length. "But now you see why I prize this little rosary sohighly. It was what lifted me out of my dungeon of disappointment."
Afterward Mary thought of a dozen things she wished she had said toLloyd while they were there together in the privacy of the trunk-room.She wished she had let her know in some way how much she admired her,and longed to be like her, and how she was going to try all the rest ofher life to be a real maid of honor, worthy in every way of her love andconfidence. But some shy, unusual feeling of constraint crowded theunspoken words back into her throbbing li
ttle throat, and theopportunity passed.
Clasping the pearls around her neck, Lloyd picked up the sandalwood boxagain and shook it. "Heah's a lot of loose beads of all kinds, with asmany colahs as a kaleidoscope. You do bead-work, don't you, Mary? Youmay have these if you can use them."
In response to her eager acceptance, Lloyd looked around for somethingto pour the beads into. "There's an empty cologne bottle on that shelfabove yoah head. If you will reach it down, I'll poah them into that."
Beads of various sizes and colors, from garnet to amber, poured in arainbow stream from the box to the wide-necked bottle. Here and therewas the glint of cut steel and the gleam of crystal, and several timesMary noticed a little Roman pearl like those on the rosary, and thoughtwith a thrill of the necklace she intended to begin making that veryday. Suddenly Lloyd gave an exclamation and reversed the gay-coloredstream, pouring it slowly back into the box from the bottle.
"I thought I saw that turquoise," she cried. "I remembah now, it was inmy hand when I took off my necklace, and I must have dropped them inheah togethah."
She parted the beads with a cautious forefinger, pushing them aside oneat a time. Presently a bit of blue rolled uppermost, and she looked uptriumphantly. "There it is!"
Mary flushed guiltily at sight of the turquoise, wondering what Lloydwould think if she knew that she had overheard what Phil had said aboutthat bit of something blue. She went back to her chair and her book bythe window after Lloyd left, but the book lay unopened in her lap. Shehad many things to think of while she slowly turned the bottle betweenherself and the light and watched its shifting colors. Several times ablack bead appeared among the others.
"I'd have had to use black beads more than once," she reflected, "if _I_had been making a rosary, for there's the day I was so rude to GirlieDinsmore, and the awful time when I got so interested that Ieavesdropped."
* * * * *
The wedding was all that Mrs. Sherman had planned, everything fallinginto place as beautifully and naturally as the unfolding of a flower.The assembled guests seated in the great bower of roses heard a low,soft trembling of harp-strings deepen into chords. Then to thisaccompaniment two violins began the wedding-march, and the great gate ofroses swung wide. As Stuart and his best man entered from a side doorand took their places at the altar in front of the old minister, therest of the bridal party came down the stairs: Betty and Miles Bradfordfirst, Joyce and Rob, then the maid of honor walking alone with herarmful of roses. After her came the bride with her hand on her father'sarm.
Just at that instant some one outside drew back the shutters in thebay-window, and a flood of late afternoon sunshine streamed across theroom, the last golden rays of the perfect June day making a path oflight from the gate of roses to the white altar. It shone full acrossEugenia's face, down on the long-trained shimmering satin, the littlegleaming slippers, the filmy veil that enveloped her, the pearls thatglimmered white on her white throat.
Eliot, standing in a corner, nervously watching every movement withtwitching lips, relaxed into a smile. "It's a good omen!" she said, halfunder her breath, then gave a startled glance around to see if any onehad heard her speak at such an improper time.
The music grew softer now, so faint and low it seemed the mere shadow ofsound. Above the rare sweetness of that undertone of harp and violinsrose the words of the ceremony: "_I, Stuart, take thee, Eugenia, to bemy wedded wife_."
Mary, standing at her post by the rose gate, felt a queer little chillcreep over her. It was so solemn, so very much more solemn than she hadimagined it would be. She wondered how she would feel if the time evercame for her to stand in Eugenia's place, and plight her faith to someman in that way--"_for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, insickness and in health, until death us do part_."
Eliot was crying softly in her corner now. Yes, getting married was aterribly solemn thing. It didn't end with the ceremony and the prettyclothes and the shower of congratulations. That was only the beginning."_For better, for worse_,"--that might mean all sorts of trouble andheartache. "_Sickness and death_,"--it meant to be bound all one's lifeto one person, morning, noon, and night. How very, very careful onewould have to be in choosing,--and then suppose one made a mistake andthought the man she was marrying was good and honest and true, and he_wasn't_! It would be all the same, for "_for better, for worse_," ranthe vow, "_until death us do part_."
Then and there, holding fast to the gate of roses, Mary made up her mindthat she could never, never screw her courage up to the point of takingthe vows Eugenia was taking, as she stood with her hand clasped inStuart's, and the late sunshine of the sweet June day streaming down onher like a benediction.
"It's lots safer to be an old maid," thought Mary. "I'll take my chancesgetting the diamond leaf some other way than marrying. Anyhow, if I evershould make a choice, I'll ask somebody else's opinion, like I do when Igo shopping, so I'll be sure I'm getting a real prince, and not animitation one."
It was all over in another moment. Harp and violins burst into thejoyful notes of Mendelssohn's march, and Stuart and Eugenia turned fromthe altar to pass through the rose gate together. Lloyd and Philfollowed, then the other attendants in the order of their entrance. Onthe wide porch, screened and canopied with smilax and roses, a coolgreen out-of-doors reception-room had been made. Here they stood toreceive their guests.
Mary, in all the glory of her pink chiffon dress and satin slippers,stood at the end of the receiving line, feeling that this one experiencewas well worth the long journey from Arizona. So thoroughly did shedelight in her part of the affair, and so heartily did she enter intoher duties, that more than one guest passed on, smiling at her evidentenjoyment.
"I wish this wedding could last a week," she confided to LieutenantLogan, when he paused beside her. "Don't you know, they did in thefairy-tales, some of them. There was 'feasting and merrymaking forseventy days and seventy nights.' This one is going by so fast that itwill soon be train-time. I don't suppose _they_ care," she added, with anod toward the bride, "for they're going to spend their honeymoon in aGold of Ophir rose-garden, where there are goldfish in the fountains,and real orange-blossoms. It's out in California, at Mister Stuart'sgrandfather's. Elsie, his sister, couldn't come, so they're going out tosee her, and take her a piece of every kind of cake we have to-night,and a sample of every kind of bonbon. Don't you wonder who'll get thecharms in the bride's cake? That's the only reason I am glad the clockis going so fast. It will soon be time to cut the cake, and I'm wild tosee who gets the things in it."
The last glow of the sunset was still tinting the sky with a tender pinkwhen they were summoned to the dining-room, but indoors it had grown sodim that a hundred rose-colored candles had been lighted. Again themusic of harp and violins floated through the rose-scented rooms. AsMary glanced around at the festive scene, the tables gleaming withsilver and cut glass, the beautiful costumes, the smiling faces, a linefrom her old school reader kept running through her mind: "_And all wentmerry as a marriage-bell! And all went merry as a marriage-bell!_"
It repeated itself over and over, through all the gay murmur of voicesas the supper went on, through the flowery speech of the old Colonelwhen he stood to propose a toast, through the happy tinkle of laughterwhen Stuart responded, through the thrilling moment when at last thebride rose to cut the mammoth cake. In her nervous excitement, Maryactually began to chant the line aloud, as the first slice was liftedfrom the great silver salver: "All went merry--" Then she clapped herhand over her mouth, but nobody had noticed, for Allison had drawn thewedding-ring, and a chorus of laughing congratulations was drowning outevery other sound.
As the cake passed on from guest to guest, Betty cried out that she hadfound the thimble. Then Lloyd held up the crystal charm, the one thebride had said was doubly lucky, because it held imbedded in its centrea four-leaved clover. Nearly every slice had been crumbled as soon as itwas taken, in search of a hidden token, but Mary, who had not dared tohope that she might d
raw one, began leisurely eating her share. Suddenlyher teeth met on something hard and flat, and glancing down, she saw theedge of a coin protruding from the scrap of cake she held.
"Oh, it's the shilling!" she exclaimed, in such open-mouthedastonishment that every one laughed, and for the next few moments shewas the centre of the congratulations. Eugenia took a narrow whiteribbon from one of the dream-cake boxes, and passed it through the holein the shilling, so that she could hang it around her neck.
"Destined to great wealth!" said Rob, with mock solemnity. "I always didthink I'd like to marry an heiress. I'll wait for you, Mary."
"No," interrupted Phil, laughing, "fate has decreed that I should be thelucky man. Don't you see that it is Philip's head with Mary's on thatshilling?"
"Whew!" teased Kitty. "Two proposals in one evening, Mary. See what thecharm has done for you already!"
Mary knew that they were joking, but she turned the color of her dress,and sat twiddling the coin between her thumb and finger, too embarrassedto look up. They sat so long at the table that it was almost train-timewhen Eugenia went up-stairs to put on her travelling-dress. She made apretty picture, pausing midway up the stairs in her bridal array, theveil thrown back, and her happy face looking down on the girls gatheredbelow. Leaning far over the banister with the bridal bouquet in herhands, she called:
"Now look, ye pretty maidens, standing all a-row, The one who catches this, the next bouquet shall throw."
There was a laughing scramble and a dozen hands were outstretched toreceive it. "Oh, Joyce caught it! Joyce caught it!" cried Mary, dancingup and down on the tips of her toes, and clapping her hands over hermouth to stifle the squeal of delight that had almost escaped. "Now,some day I can be maid of honor."
"So that's why you are so happy over your sister's good fortune, is it?"asked Phil, bent on teasing her every time opportunity offered.
"No," was the indignant answer. "That is some of the reason, but I'mgladdest because she didn't get left out of everything. She didn't getone of the cake charms, so I hoped she would catch the bouquet."
When the carriage drove away at last, a row of shiny black faces waslined up each side of the avenue. All the Gibbs children were there, andAunt Cindy's other grandchildren, with their hands full of rice.
"Speed 'em well, chillun!" called old Cindy, waving her apron. The ricefell in showers on the top of the departing carriage, and two littlewhite slippers were sent flying along after it, with such force thatthey nearly struck Eliot, sitting beside the coachman. Tired as she was,she turned to smile approval, for the slippers were a good omen, too, inher opinion, and she was happy to think that everything about her MissEugenia's wedding had been carried out properly, down to this lastpropitious detail.
As the slippers struck the ground, quick as a cat, M'haley dartedforward to grab them. "Them slippahs is mates!" she announced,gleefully, "and I'm goin' to tote 'em home for we-all's wedding. Ikain't squeeze into 'em myself, but Ca'line Allison suah kin."
Once more, and for the last time, Eugenia leaned out of the carriage tolook back at the dear faces she was leaving. But there was no sadness inthe farewell. Her prince was beside her, and the Gold of Ophirrose-garden lay ahead.
The Little Colonel: Maid of Honor Page 15