Boston (Mass.) -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Married people -- Fiction
As for the young couple chiefly concerned they might have walked on air
instead of on the roses strewed in their path by the little
flower-girls; and the hundreds of curious eyes fastened upon them were
as dim, painted eyes upon a tapestried wall. They only saw each other
and the gate of that ancient Eden of the race opening before them.
That same evening, after all was over, and when, as the village reporter
phrased it with happy originality, "the young couple had departed upon
their wedding journey amid showers of rice and roses," Dr. North sought
his tired wife, busy clearing away the tokens of the late festivities.
"Come, Lizzie," he said kindly, "we may as well get what rest we can;
to-morrow'll be another day, and we've got to go jogging on about our
middle-aged business as usual."
Mrs. North looked up at him with tearful eyes. "I can't seem to realise
that Bessie's gone to stay," she said tremulously. "I just caught myself
thinking what I'd say to her when she came home, and what we'd----"
Richard North passed his arm about the wife of his youth. "I--hope he'll
be good to her," he said, his voice shaken with feeling. "I--I believe
he's all right. If he isn't I'll--" He shrugged his broad shoulders
impatiently.
"Oh, I'm not a bit worried about _Sam_," said Mrs. North; "I know enough
about men. But, O Dick, I'm going to miss my--baby!"
He held her close for a minute while she sobbed on his shoulder; then
the two went slowly up the stairs together, leaving the disordered
rooms and the fading roses in the luminous dark of the June night.
* * * * *
The Boston apartment to which young Samuel Brewster brought his bride in
the early part of September was of Miss Evelyn Tripp's choosing. The
engineer had demurred at its distance from his work, but Elizabeth had
said she preferred to be near Evelyn; and Evelyn said that the location,
if not strictly fashionable, was at least _near_ the people they ought
to know.
The rent was thirty-eight dollars a month. And the rooms were small,
inconvenient and old-fashioned. "But," as Miss Tripp kindly pointed out,
"if one is obliged to choose between a small, old-fashioned suite in a
really good locality and a light airy one in the unfashionable suburbs
of South Boston one _ought_ not to hesitate."
Mrs. North and Grandma Carroll had seen to putting the furnishings in
place; and when the two arrived at the close of a hot afternoon they
found everything in the exquisite order with which Elizabeth had been
happily familiar all her life.
She ran from room to room laughing and crying in the same breath. "Oh,
Sam, dear, do see, there is ice in the refrigerator and a cunning little
jar of cream and a print of butter; and here is a roast chicken and some
of grandma's rolls and one of mother's delicious lemon pies! How hard
they must have worked. I'll put on one of these big aprons, and we'll
have supper in no time!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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