Boston (Mass.) -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Married people -- Fiction
Mrs. North looked wistfully at the pretty, eager face. She had looked
forward with pleasure--somewhat tempered, it is true, by the knowledge
of her meagre resources, yet still with pleasure--to the choosing of her
daughter's wedding gown, with all its dainty accessories of tulle and
lace. "I had thought of a silk muslin," she said rather faintly, "or
perhaps a cream satin--if you'd like it better, dear, and----"
"I shouldn't like either of those," said the girl decidedly, "and
there's so much to do that it will really save time if you don't have to
bother with any of that; Evelyn (it was Evelyn and Elizabeth now) says
chiffon over liberty satin would be lovely if I can't afford the lace.
Of course I wouldn't buy a _cheap lace_."
That night when Dr. North came home he tossed a handful of bills into
his daughter's lap. "For the wedding gown, Bess," he said; "worse luck
that you want one!"
"Oh, why do you say that, you darling daddy?" murmured the girl, "when
I'm going to be so happy!" She was radiantly happy now, it appeared,
and the doctor's keen eyes grew moist as he looked at her.
"Guess I was thinking about myself principally," he confessed gruffly,
"and about your mother. We're going to be lonesome; and I--don't like to
think of it."
The girl's bright face clouded. "The boys will be at home summers," she
said, "and I'll come back to--visit often, you know. I sha'n't be far
away, daddy." She clung to him for a minute without a word, a faint
realisation of the irrevocable change so near at hand sweeping over her.
"Of course you _will_, Betsey Jane!" vociferated the doctor, affecting a
vast jocularity for the purpose of concealing his feelings, which
threatened to become unmanageable. "If you don't show up in Innisfield
about once in so often I'll come to Boston with my bag and give that
young robber a dose that will make his hair curl."
The next day the bride-elect journeyed to Boston carrying what appeared
to her a small fortune in her little hand-bag. "You've all been so
good!" she said. "I can just buy everything I need with all this."
Evelyn Tripp met Elizabeth in South Station with open arms. "How well
you are looking, you _darling_!" she exclaimed effusively. "Now if we
can only keep those roses through all the shopping and dressmaking. It
is so exhausting; but I've everything planned for you down to the last
frill, and Madame Pryse has at last consented to make your gowns! If you
_knew_ what I've been through with that woman! She simply will _not_
take a new customer; but when I mentioned the fact that you were to
marry a nephew of Mrs. Mortimer Van Duser she _finally_ capitulated. I
could have _embraced_ her!"
"But Sam isn't Mrs. Van Duser's nephew, Evelyn. I believe his mother was
Mrs. Van Duser's second cousin."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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