Part 34 (1/2)
David laughed happily. ”I was, but I am very much alive now. I am to be married, Mrs. Towers; our wedding is to be quite _comme il faut_. It is to be at high noon, and the ceremony performed by a bishop.”
”James!” Betty dropped into a chair and looked helplessly at her husband. ”You haven't your vestments here!”
”I have all I need, dear. You know, Doctor, from Mr. Belew's telegram we were led to expect--”
”A death instead of a wedding?” David finished.
Betty turned to him. ”Why didn't you tell us when you were down? You never gave the slightest hint of your state of mind, and there I was with my heart aching for Ca.s.sandra, when you--you stood ready to save her. I'm so glad for Ca.s.sandra; I could hug you, Doctor Thryng.”
Suddenly she turned on her husband. ”James! Have you thought of everything--all the consequences? What will his mother--and the family over in England say?”
James threw up his hand and laughed.
”Don't laugh, James. Have you thought this all out, Doctor? Are you sure you can make them understand over there? Won't they think this awfully irregular? Will they ever be reconciled? I know how they are. My father was English.”
”They never need be reconciled. It's our affair, and there's nothing to call me back there to live. What I do, or whom I make my wife, is nothing to them. I may visit my mother, of course, but for the rest, they gave me up years ago, when I had no use for the life they mapped out for me. I have nothing to inherit there. It would go to my older brother, anyway. I may follow my own inclination--thank G.o.d! And as for it's being irregular--on the contrary--we are distinguished enough to have a bishop perform the ceremony. That will be considered a great thing at home--when they do come to hear of it.”
”But it is very sudden, Doctor; I suppose that's why I said irregular.”
Betty Towers paused a moment with a little frown, then laughed outright.
”Does Ca.s.sandra know she is to be married to-day?”
”She learned the fact yesterday--incidentally--bless her! and her only objection was a most feminine one. She had no proper dress. She said she was wearing her best when she found me and--but--I told her the trousseau was to come later.”
Betty rose with impulsive importance. ”Well, James, we've so little time, I must go and help her prepare. And you'll rest now, won't you, Doctor? You stay up here with him, James, and I'll find some way of sending your things up.”
”Thar's Hoyle; he kin he'p a heap. He kin ride the mule an' tote anything ye like; and Marthy, I reckon ye kin git her up here on my horse--hit's thar at her place,” said Sally, who had been standing in the doorway, keenly interested.
When they were alone she said to David: ”Hit's a right quare way o'
doin' things--gitt'n married in bed, but if Bishop Towahs do hit, hit sure must be all right--leastways Ca.s.sandry'll think so.”
David took the superintendence of the arrangement of his cabin upon himself, and Hoke Belew, with the bishop's aid, carried out his directions. One side of his canvas room was rolled to the top, leaving the place open to the hills and the beauty without. His bed was placed so that he might face the open s.p.a.ce, and that Ca.s.sandra could kneel at his right side. His writing-table, draped with a white cloth and covered with green hemlock boughs, formed the altar. It was all very quickly and simply done, and then David lay quiet, with closed eyes, listening to his musicians in the tree-tops, fluting their own gladness, while Hoke Belew went down below, and the bishop sat out on the rock and meditated.
Ca.s.sandra came up to the cabin alone and sat with David, while the bishop donned his priestly vestments, and the wedding procession wound slowly up the trail from the Fall Place, decorously and gravely, clad in their best. Azalea and Betty came, side by side, the mother rode Sally's speckled white horse, and little Hoyle ran on ahead; Hoke carried his baby in his arms. Behind them all rode Uncle Jerry Carew, full of the liveliest interest and curiosity.
Said David: ”This is May-day. I know what they're doing at home now, if the weather will let them. They're having gay times with out-of-door fetes. The country girls are wearing their prettiest gowns, and the men are wearing sprigs of May in their b.u.t.tonholes. Where did you get your roses?”
”Azalie brought them.”
”And who put them in your hair?”
”Mrs. Towahs did that. Do you like me this way, David?”
”You are the loveliest being my eyes ever rested on.”
”This was my best dress last year. I did it up and mended it this morning. It's home-woven like the one I--like the other one you said you liked.”
David smiled, looking up into the gray eyes with the green lights and blue depths in them. How serene and poised her manner was, on the verge of the momentous step she was about to take, while his own heart was beating high. He wondered if she really comprehended the change it was to make in her life, that she showed no apprehension or fear.
”Ca.s.sandra, do you realize that in fifteen minutes you will be my wife?
It will be a great change for you, dearest. In spite of all I can do, you may be sad sometimes, and I may ask of you things you don't want to do.”
”I've been sad already in my life, and done things I didn't want to do.