Part 29 (1/2)
”And I shall furnish the flowers and the bride's bouquet. Let me see, I think lilies of the valley and pink roses would suit Lily Rose, don't you?”
”They will be beautiful,” said Amarilly, beaming. ”And we are going to have a real swell meal. I have learned to make salads and ices, and then we'll have coffee and sandwiches and bride's cake beside.”
”Some one has to give the bride away, you know, Amarilly, in Episcopal weddings.”
”I know it. But poor Lily Rose has no one that belongs to her. Her relations are all dead. That's another reason why the Boarder is so nice to her. So ma is going to give her away. We're going to ask the neighbors and you and Mr. Derry and Mr. Cotter, of course. He's the brakeman friend of the Boarder.”
”And are the Boarder and Lily Rose going away?”
”Yes; the Boarder can get a pa.s.s to Niagara Falls. They are going to stay there a week. Lily Rose has never been on the cars. And they are going to ride to the train in a hack.”
”Why, it's going to be quite an affair,” said Colette enthusiastically.
”We'll throw an old shoe and some rice after them. And will she be married in white?”
Amarilly's face fell.
”I am afraid she can't afford a wedding dress. She's got to get a travelling suit and hat and gloves and shoes, and with other things it will take all she has saved. She'd like a white dress and a veil and get her picture taken in it to hang up by the side of the Boarder's in the surplice. And that makes me think, we want you to ask Mr. St. John if he will wear our surplice instead of bringing one of his. We'll do it up nice before the wedding.”
”Oh, that prophetic surplice!” groaned Colette. ”It's yesterday, to-day and forever; I wish something would happen to it, Amarilly. I hate that surplice!”
”I'm sorry, Miss King, but we all love it. And you see it means a good deal to Lily Rose; because she has looked at its photograph so long.”
”Very well, Amarilly. I yield. St. John shall wear his surplice once more, and when he does--”
A sudden thought illumined her face. ”I believe I will tell him--”
Amarilly deemed it a fitting time to depart, and she hastened to a.s.sure Lily Rose that it was ”all right.”
”Miss King will speak to Mr. St. John about marrying you, and she will ask him to wear our surplice. She's going to send you flowers--lilies of the valley and roses. It all would be perfect, Lily Rose, if only you had a white dress!”
Lily Rose smiled sweetly, and told Amarilly she was glad to be married in any dress, and that she should not miss the ”reg'ler weddin' fixin's”
nearly as much as Amarilly would mind her not having them. When Amarilly set her head and heart on anything, however, it was sure to be accomplished. It was a puzzling problem to equip Lily Rose in the conventional bridal white vestments, for the bride-to-be was very proud and independent and wouldn't hearken to Amarilly's plea to be allowed to contribute toward a new dress.
”We're under obligations to _him_, you know,” argued Amarilly ”and I'd like to help him by helping you.”
Lily Rose was strong of will despite her sweet smile.
Deep down in her heart Amarilly, throughout all her scheming, knew there was a way, but she chose to ignore it until the insistent small voice spoke louder and louder. With a sigh of renunciation she yielded to the inevitable and again sought Lily Rose.
”I've thought out a way to the white dress,” she announced.
Lily Rose's eyes sparkled for a moment, and their light died out.
”Yes, there's really a way,” persisted Amarilly, answering the unspoken denial. ”You said you could squeeze out slippers and stockings, didn't you?”
”Yes,” she admitted.
”Well, there's your new white dress skirt, and for a waist there is my lovely lace waist that I told you about--the one Miss King gave me.”