Part 32 (1/2)

So Robert helped her gently from the wheel chair. He lifted small Daphne upon the vacated seat and tucked her in carefully. And then they all entered the church.

The minister came down from the altar. He had lit two candles and they sent their wavering light out upon the small audience. The Man above the altar looked down with infinite tenderness upon the pale little bride.

The minister spoke: ”Robert, take your bride upon your arm!”

Thus adjured, Robert proffered his arm and Miss Ma.s.sey put her small hand upon it. Then slowly they walked behind the minister to the altar.

Suzanna, Maizie, and Peter followed.

Graham offered his support to his grandmother. He had pledged his fealty to her and he felt grateful that she leaned upon him as slowly she mounted the four steps which led to the altar.

There they grouped themselves about the bridal pair. Graham stood close to his grandmother, Suzanna near to Miss Ma.s.sey, Peter and Maizie at Robert's right hand.

The minister began: ”Dearly beloved, we are gathered here together--”

and on through the beautiful old ceremony.

He came at length to this question: ”Who giveth this woman to this man?”

and paused simply in custom. And old John Ma.s.sey was far distant, nursing his anger and yet sad, too, because he would not in his temper attend the marriage of his daughter, though most lovingly and pleadingly had that daughter begged his presence. And the girl's mother was lying out on a hillside--where she had lain for many a long year.

And the waiting bride had tears in her heart, till, suddenly, Drusilla, with a beautiful light in her eyes, stepped forward. She put her white-veined old hand softly on the bride's arm, and she said in a low clear voice:

”I do--I give this woman to this man.”

And the mother spirit in her spoke so richly that the bride all at once felt happy and a little awed, too, as though her own mother had for the moment raised herself and spoken.

And the minister went on with the ceremony till came the end: ”And I p.r.o.nounce that they are Man and Wife.”

And Robert folded his wife in his arms and kissed her while each face, young and old, pictured the deep solemnity of the moment.

Robert's wife at last turned to Drusilla. She put her arms about the bravely upstanding figure in its old-fas.h.i.+oned dolman. ”Oh, thank you, thank you,” she murmured. ”I shall never forget what you've done for me today.”

The color flowed like a wave up over Drusilla's face. With a quick little breath, she leaned forward and kissed the new wife. She experienced a sudden glow. It was as though Life for the moment, forgetful that she was old and laid aside, had called her forward to fill a need no other was near to fill.

They all left the church after Robert had signed his name in a big book, and his wife had written hers with a proud little flourish. Robert helped Drusilla into the wheel chair, after lifting Daphne from her place on the upholstered cus.h.i.+on. This time the little girl awoke. She was about to cry when Robert raised her in his arms and carried her down the road, hus.h.i.+ng her against him, while Graham again ordered himself his grandmother's squire.

And so they went down the road together, all somewhat quiet, even Peter's exuberant spirits moderated, till they reached Drusilla's home.

The maid, Letty, awaiting her mistress' return, ran down the steps, an anxious frown between her eyes.

”Come,” said Drusilla. ”You must all be my guests.” She whispered some words in Letty's ear. The girl smiled and half shyly glanced at Robert and his bride.

Robert still carrying little Daphne, who had refused to be put down, said at once: ”We should like that very much. I was so hoping you would ask us.”

So they entered the little house. They went into the parlor with its portrait above the mantel and the lilies of the valley beneath it.

Graham remembered with a little warm feeling that his father had once left the order at a city florist's for a daily spray of those lovely bells.

Letty, carrying the dolman and small bonnet, disappeared but in a miraculously short time returned to announce that tea was ready in the dining-room.