On a bright December day, mild for the season, Betty and Fortescue were married in the old Colonial church. Betty, who loved show, insisted that there should be a real military wedding, and so from the great fortress forty miles away came a dozen dashing young officers. There was a great train of bridesmaids, Sally Carteret leading them in beauty as well as precedence. Never had the old church seen such a blaze of gold lace and glittering epaulets and gilt sword-hilts and splendid chapeaux. Everybody in the county came to Betty's wedding, and waited breathlessly for the entrance of the bridal party. Fortescue, with his best man, both in gorgeous new full-dress uniforms, were waiting smiling in the chancel. Before the bridal train entered, came Uncle Cesar and Aunt Tulip, Uncle Cesar in a new suit of clothes and carrying in his hand a superannuated silk hat of the Colonel's. Aunt Tulip wore a large red and green plaid gown and a black hat with pink roses, and both wore large wedding favors of white satin. Behind them, with great solemnity, marched Kettle. He was arrayed in a Little Lord Fauntleroy suit, made by Aunt Tulip with the aid of a paper pattern, out of an old green riding habit of Betty's. A large collar of cotton lace adorned Kettle's shoulders, and he, too, wore a wedding favor as large as a cabbage, with ends that hung below his knees. In dignity and importance, Kettle considered that he ranked next the bride, and enjoyed hugely being the cynosure of all eyes as he strutted up the aisle. Then came the dozen stalwart young officers in splendid uniforms, and, after them, the rosebud garden of girls in fluttering gauzes and chiffons. When they had all reached the chancel, the officers drew their swords and made an archway of the shining blue blades over the heads of the Colonel, and Betty in her bridal veil. Never was there a more smiling bride in the old church. Fortescue shouted his responses in what Betty called his "parade ground voice," while Betty's answers, though soft, were clear. The wedding party went back to Holly Lodge, which was too cramped to entertain more than a small party. There was punch in the old Lowestoft punch-bowl, and, according to tradition, the bride's cake was cut with the groom's sword. Fortescue's brothers, fine young fellows, were present, and also his father, who, Betty readily agreed, was, as Fortescue described him, "the finest old dad in the world." When the time came for the bride and bridegroom to leave for the steamboat landing, a handsome carriage and pair, one of the gifts of Fortescue's father to Betty, drove up, and as the bridal pair passed out, Uncle Cesar and Kettle, standing on each side of the doorway, played on their fiddles the old air which the bands played in the London streets for Queen Victoria's wedding procession, "Come, Haste to the Wedding." The Colonel, in his feeble old baritone, sang: "Oh, come at our bidding, To this merry wedding, Come see rural felicity."