chattering away to the silent woman who only sniffed and wiped a furtive eye with a careful handkerchief. It was all too evident that Gemmie did not approve of the marriage. But what could one do with such a woman who had been perfectly satisfied with a man like Carter? She was beyond all reason.
Sherrill went over to see her aunt for a few minutes and have a last little talk.
Aunt Pat invited just a very few of their most intimate friends, and some of those couldn’t come on such short notice. “Just to make it plain that we’re not trying to hide something,” she said to Sherrill with her twinkly grin. “People are so apt to rake up some reason to gossip. But anyway what do we care? The Grants are coming and they are the pick of the lot, and Cousin Phyllis. She would never have forgiven us if she hadn’t been asked. She did complain about the shortness of the time and want it put off till tomorrow, but I told her that was impossible.”
Then Sherrill told her what Copeland had said about the possibility of his being located in the east when he returned, and Aunt Pat gave her first little mite of a sigh and said with a wistful look like a child, “Well, if he could see his way clear to coming here to this house and living, it would be the best I’d ask of earth any longer. It’ll be your house anyway when I’m gone, and I’d like you to just take it over now and run it anytime you will. I could sort of board or visit with you. I’m getting old, you know. You speak of it sometime to him when it seems wise, but don’t be hampered by it, of course.” Aunt Pat sighed again.
“You dear!” said Sherrill, bending over her and kissing her tenderly. “I’d love it, and I’m sure he would, too. Now don’t you worry, and don’t you feel lonesome, or we’ll just tuck you in the suitcase and take you along with us to South America.”
Aunt Pat grinned and patted Sherrill’s cheek smartly. “You silly little girl! Now run along and get your wedding frills on. It’s almost time for the guests to be here, and you are not ready.”
So Sherrill ran away laughing and had to tell Gemmie to please bring the big box containing the wedding dress.
“You’re not going to wear that!” said Gemmie, aghast.
“Certainly I am, Gemmie,” said Sherrill firmly. “It’s my dress, isn’t it? Hurry, please. It’s getting late!”
Gemmie gave her a wild look.
“I should have been told,” she said coldly. “The dress should have been pressed.”
“Nonsense, Gemmie; it doesn’t matter whether there is a wrinkle or two, but there won’t be. You put tissue in every fold. Anyway, you can’t press it. It’s too late!”
Gemmie brought the great pasteboard box, thumped it down on the bed unopened, and stalked into the bathroom, pretending to have urgent work there picking up damp towels for the laundry.
Sherrill, feeling annoyed at the stubborn faithful old woman, went over to the bed and lifted the cover of the big box.
There lay the soft white folds of the veil like a lovely mist, and above them like blooms among the snow the beautiful wreath of orange blossoms, not a petal out of place. Gemmie had done her work perfectly when she put them away. And beneath the veil Sherrill could see the gleam of the satin wedding gown. Oh, it was lovely, and Sherrill’s heart leaped with pleasure to think she might wear it again, wear it this time without a doubt or pang or shrinking!
She turned away humming a soft little tune and went about her dressing.
Gemmie had laid out all the lovely silken garments, and it was like playing a game to put them on, leisurely, happily.
When she was ready for the dress, she called Gemmie, and then Aunt Pat came in, already attired in her soft gray robes, looking herself as lovely as any wedding could desire.
“I’m glad I can have a little leisure this time,” she said, settling into a big chair and smoothing her silks about her. “Last time I had to be hustled off to the church when there were a hundred and one things I wanted to attend to at home. I don’t know that I care much for church weddings anyway unless you have to have a mob.”
Gemmie’s eyes were red as if she had been weeping,