CHAPTER XVIII
A WAR WEDDING
TALK about a clap of thunder out of a clear sky--that's nothing to thesurprise Babe gave us the very next night. About nine o'clock she calledme by telephone to say:
"Listen, Georgina. Is Richard still there? Is it too late for you tocome down for a few minutes? _Watson and I are to be married tomorrowafternoon._ We've just decided. Everything's in a dreadful tangle. Wewant you to help straighten us out."
I was so surprised I could hardly speak. Tippy thought someone must bedead from the horrified way I gasped out, "Oh, you don't mean it!" Thesuddenness of it did horrify me in a way. It seems so dreadful to besnatched through the most beautiful and sacred occasion of one's life sofast that there's no chance to do any of the time-honored things thatmake it beautiful and impressive. For all Babe seems so matter of factshe's full of sentiment, and has always looked forward to doing thoseromantic things that brides do, such as filling a "hope chest" with
Stitches set in long white seams To the silent music of tender dreams.
Hurrying up a wedding in one day in such a combination family as theNolan-Dorseys would be like scrambling eggs. Of course, we went rightdown.
We had had an awfully nice day together, exploring the town to see howmuch it had changed, and calling on Uncle Darcy and dropping into thestudios where we have been welcomed on Mr. Moreland's account since thefirst summer he joined the Artist's colony. We'd been in every store onCommercial street to speak to the clerks, and out to the end of RailroadWharf to see how many of our old fishermen friends we could find. Downon the beach an art class pitched their easels and went on paintingtheir favorite model, a Portuguese girl under a green parasol, quite asusual, and we sat on the sand in the shadow of a boathouse and watchedthem lazily, as if there weren't any Huns and their horrors in theuniverse.
It had been a peaceful day up to the time we reached Babe's house. Thetangle she spoke of was the usual kind in her family. Her stepfather,Mr. Dorsey, is a traveling man. He couldn't get home in time to give heraway, and Babe's mother thought they ought to wait for him. It wasn'tshowing him proper respect not to; besides Jim wasn't old enough to doit. Jim didn't want to do it, but he objected to being thought tooyoung, and Watson couldn't wait because he'd received his orders. That'swhy they were hurrying things up.
He wants to be married in the Church of the Pilgrims because his peopleare the kind that'd feel better if it was done there. Circumstances weresuch that none of them could be present, so he wanted to do that much toplease them. And Babe couldn't be married at the church unless Violawould loan her her new white dress that Miss Doan had just sent homeafter keeping her waiting three weeks for it. Her own white ones wereout of commission and she wouldn't feel like a bride if she were marriedin anything but white. But Viola wanted to wear her own dress her ownself, and be a bridesmaid. She always gets her own way when she cries,so she was beginning to sob on her mother's shoulder when we went in.And Mrs. Dorsey was saying she didn't see why they couldn't be marriedright there in the parlor, either in the bay window or under thechandelier with a wedding bell hung from it. Babe's shirt-waist suitthat she graduated in was good enough for a home affair and could belaundered in a hurry.
Babe wouldn't hear to that because Watson had expressed his preferencefor the church and had such a good reason, and Watson was provokedbecause Viola wouldn't give in to Babe. It was her wedding, he said, andought to be run to suit her.
Poor old Babe. Among them they worked her up into such a nervous,excited state that she was half crying, and when her mother said in anexasperated tone--"Oh, these war weddings! Why don't you wait till it'sall over and he comes back in peace times?" Babe threw herself down onthe library couch and wept.
"How do I know he'll ever come back?" she wailed. "It's you who aremaking a war wedding out of it with all your disagreeing and arguing."
Then Mrs. Dorsey explained all over again to me the way she thoughtthings ought to be settled, and Viola explained her way and Babe sobbedout hers, and Jim made a few remarks till it made me think of the oldnursery tale: "Fire won't burn stick, stick won't beat pig, pig won'tget over the stile, and I sha'n't get home tonight."
It was awfully embarrassing for Watson and uncomfortable for Richard.Presently they disappeared--went out on the front steps for a smoke.When I suggested the different dressmakers who might be persuaded torush something through, there was a reason why each one on the list wasunavailable. Miss Doan and the two next best had left town on avacation.
Then I happened to think of that evening dress Babe ruined up on Mrs.Waldon's roof, leaning against the rusty railing. It had a white silkunder-dress, and in a flash an inspiration came to me. With that silkslip for a foundation _I_ would attempt to make that wedding gownmyself, although there was less than a day in which to do it. I'd seen alovely piece of tulle that morning, when we stopped in the Emporium.
It didn't occur to me at first what a daring thing I was offering to do,or what a mess I'd make of everything if I failed. I was sure of theneedlework part, for Tippy began my sewing-lessons so far back I can'tremember the first one, and what passed muster with her was good enoughfor any bride or anybody. And I'd made simple wash dresses under Barby'sdirection.
Babe accepted my offer with the sublime confidence and joy thatCinderella showed in her godmother's ability to get a ball gown out of apumpkin, and then I began to have an awful panic. But there was nochance to back out. She rapturously called Watson in to tell him thateverybody could be happy now, for I'd found the end of the string thatwould untangle the whole skein.
From then on "stick began to beat pig, pig began to get over the stile,and the little old woman got home that night." During the next tenminutes two people were routed out of bed by telephone, but neither oneminded it when they found it was for something as romantic as a warwedding. Miss Clara, chief clerk at the Emporium, promised to get thestore keys early in the morning, cut off the goods with her own hands,and have it delivered to me by seven o'clock.
The other was Mrs. Doan, mother of the dressmaker who had just lefttown. "Yes, indeed, we could have Sallie's dress form," she saidcordially. "Send Jim right over for it."
The dress form was collapsible, so Jim brought it over in a box, but itwas a very startling and human-like figure that Richard had to carry upthe street for me over his shoulder. There being no time for Babe tostand for fittings herself, we blew up the dummy like a balloon, till itwas adjusted to fit the silk slip. Richard kept calling it Sallie Jane,and making such ridiculous remarks to it, that we were nearly hystericalfrom laughing when we finally started home with it. It was brightmoonlight, but so late that we passed only a few people on the street.These few stared in open-mouthed wonder at the stiff lady in whitethrown over Richard's shoulder, and one man turned and followed us halfa block to satisfy his curiosity.
Richard salutes "Sallie Jane."]
Tippy would have helped next morning, but she had to bring Belle'schildren up to spend the day. Aunt Elspeth was very much worse. I tookthe downstairs guest chamber for my workshop. By five minutes past seventhe tulle was spread out on the big four poster, and my scissors wereslashing into it. From then on until noon I worked in nightmarish haste.Of course I couldn't have finished it if it had been satin goods orsomething like that, but the tulle was easy to handle, and I pinned andpatted it into shape on patient Sallie Jane till it began to look likethe picture I had in mind.
Richard came up about the middle of the morning. I heard him go stridingthrough the hall. Then his laugh rang out from the kitchen where Tippywas letting the children help her make oatmeal cookies.
Then I heard him coming back, and looked up to see him in the doorway.He only saluted and did not venture in, as I was down on my kneesbefore Sallie Jane, making the bridal skirts hang evenly. He couldsee it was a critical moment. He said he merely dropped in to reportthat everything was going smoothly at the Nolan-Dorseys. The license andthe ring were ready, the auto engaged to take the happy couple t
oChatham. They would proceed from there to Boston by rail next day.Judith was at the house now, helping the family keep their head betweentheir ears, and the only trouble was the telephoning. The list of peoplewho would be slighted if not notified was so long that Jim suggestedsending out the town crier, and being done with it.
"Poor Uncle Darcy," I said. "He won't be able to see the wedding. AuntElspeth is so much worse. He's always been mixed up in the importanthappenings of my life, and he would have taken such pride in seeing usmarch up the aisle, you as best man and me as maid of honor----"
Then I broke off short and whirled Sallie Jane around on her pivot as ifI had found something the matter which absorbed my attention. But inreality I had just remembered that it was my eighteenth birthday, andcame very near reminding him of the fact. To think of having forgottenit myself till the morning was half gone! I had come to my "FieldElysian," and it was a lonely place, for nobody else remembered. Thesurest sign that I had reached it was that I did not frankly proclaimthe fact, frankly expectant of birthday offerings. I didn't wantanything if people had to be reminded of the date. I took the corner ofa paper of pins between my teeth and stood up to pin the sleeves inplace.
Richard looked on approvingly. "That really begins to look likesomething," he said. "Looks like a white cloud. Even on old Sallie Janeyou'd know it was a bridal outfit. You're a trump, Georgina, for rushingthings through this way. Babe ought to be everlastingly grateful. Butwhile it's 'Very nice for Mary Ann, it's rather hard on Abraham.' Do yourealize I've only four more days left to spend in this old town? Thiswedding is knocking a whole quarter of it out of my calculations."
Something made me glance up. He was looking down at me so intently itflustered me. I found myself trying to pin the left sleeve into theright arm.
"I don't believe in these war weddings," he said almost fiercely. "Watthadn't any right to ask her to marry him now and take such chances.Suppose he'd be killed?"
"She'd feel that he was hers, at any rate," I said between my teeth,still holding on to the paper of pins. "She'd have the memory of thiswedding, and the few happy days to follow, and she'd have the proudfeeling that she was the wife of a man who'd given his life bravely.She'd be giving something to the cause herself, a continuing sacrifice,for it would keep on all the rest of her life."
"But suppose he wasn't killed outright. Suppose he'd come back to hercrippled or blinded or frightfully disfigured. He oughtn't to want totie her for life to just a part of a man."
Then I took up for Babe so emphatically that I dropped the pins. "Thenshe'd be eyes to him and feet to him and hands to him--and everythingelse. And she'd _glory_ in it. _I_ would if I loved a man as Babe doesWatson Tucker, though I don't see what she sees in him to care for."
"I believe you would," he answered slowly. Then after a long pause headded, "It certainly must make a difference to a man over there to knowhe's got somebody back home, caring for him like _that_!"
He left in a few moments, and I had to work harder than ever for I hadslowed up a bit while we talked. The wedding was at four. I am sure Iwas the happiest one in the crowd, for not only was the dress done intime, it was pronounced a real "creation." Babe never looked so well inher life. Judith had worked some sort of miracle on her hair, and inthat simple fluff of white tulle she was almost pretty.
Never did a Maid of Honor have less time for her own arraying. Ihurriedly slipped into the same dress of rose-color and white that Iwore the night of Richard's arrival, and put on the little pearlnecklace that had been Barby's. When he came for me in his Cousin James'machine he brought a big armful of roses for me to carry. It made meawfully happy to have him say, "Many happy returns of the day" when hegave them to me, even when he laughingly confessed that he hadn'tremembered the date himself. It was Judith who reminded them that thewedding day and my birthday were the same. Even so, it was nice to havethe event marked by his lovely roses.
Despite all Judith's precautions we had a wild scramble to get all thelittle Dorseys corralled for a final dress review. Each one of them cameup with some important article missing, which had to be hunted for. Thena sudden calm descended. We found ourselves at the door of the Church ofthe Pilgrims. We were going slowly, very slowly up the aisle to thesolemn organ music, conscious of a white blur of faces on each side. Thechurch was packed.
There had been no time for a rehearsal, but, for once, luck was withthe Nolan-Dorseys. Nobody stumbled, nobody dropped anything, nobodyresponded in the wrong place. As Jim remarked afterward, "We did realwell for a bunch of amateurs. We flocked all right though not even birdsof a feather; one man in naval uniform, one in aviator's, and one incivilian's."
Jim gave the bride away. I was strung up to such a nervous tension forfear it wouldn't go off all right that I never took a full breath tillJim was through his part, the ring on Babe's finger and her bouquetsafely back in her hands again. It was only at the very last when theold minister who was perfectly devoted to Babe began to falter through aprayer, that I realized I hadn't really heard the ceremony. It had gonein one ear and out the other, leaving no impression of its sacredmeaning.
But if I missed the impressiveness of it Babe and Watson did not. He wasas pale as a ghost, and her hands trembled so they could hardly hold herflowers. It was a solemn time for them. Then it grew solemn for me, as asentence of the last prayer caught my attention.
"_And take now, into Thy especial care and keeping, those who go forthfrom this altar to defend us, both upon the high seas and in theboundless battle plains of the air._"
He was praying for Richard too. I glanced across at him and found thathe was looking intently at me. I had never seen such an expression inhis eyes before--a sort of goodbye, as if he were looking at me for thelast time, and was sorry. It was the dearest look. Our eyes met gravelyfor an instant, then just the shadow of a smile crept into his, and minedropped. I couldn't understand why that little half-smile should make meso sort of happy and confused. Then the "Amen!" sounded and the organpealed out the wedding march, and with my hand on his arm we followedthe bridal couple down the aisle, and out through the door to theautomobile, waiting to take them to Chatham.
Once out of the door Babe wasn't a bit dignified. In her hurry to getaway before the crowd could follow and hold a curbstone reception, shechased down the long board walk leading from the church to the street sofast that Watson could hardly keep up. They didn't pretend to keep step.She had a long coat and a hat waiting for her in the machine. She hadkissed her family all around before leaving the house, so she just piledin as she was, and began pulling off her veil while the chauffeurcranked up.
"I'll change at Chatham," she called back to us.
"No, Mrs. Tucker," Richard remarked as the machine dashed off, "you'llnever change. You'll always be just like that."
"The whole affair has been more like a whirlwind than a wedding," saidJudith as she joined us. "I'm limp."
Georgina's Service Stars Page 19