"Much obliged, but your generosity is unnecessary. You will never see _my_ husband dusty, if I know it!" cried Esther in disdain, and blushed so prettily at the sound of that magic word that Peggy capered round the room in delight, humming an air the while which was intended to be the Wedding March, but which was, alas! so lamentably out of tune that Esther congratulated herself that, even if overheard, it would never be recognised by the beloved listener in the garden. CHAPTER NINETEEN. For the next few weeks Esther's approaching marriage seemed to engross attention to the exclusion of every other topic. To Mellicent's delight the professor fulfilled Peggy's prophecy by putting his veto on the travelling-dress proposition. The wedding should be quiet, the quieter the better, but Esther must wear the orthodox attire, for he wished to keep the memory of a white-robed bride with him throughout life. Alone with Esther, he added one or two lover-like speeches on the point, which more than reconciled her for the extra fuss and flurry which were involved in gratifying his desire. A white dress involved bridesmaids, so Peggy received her invitation, and was the less appreciative of the position since every day brought with it a fresh interview with Mellicent, eager, incoherent, brimming over with an entirely new set of ideas on the all-important subject of dress. Esther herself went about her preparations in characteristic fashion, thoughtful of expense, of fatigue for others, yet with a transparent appreciation of her own importance, which was altogether girl-like and natural, and Mrs Asplin entered into every detail of the arrangements with whole-hearted zeal. She was so happy in Esther's happiness, so thankful for the feeling of additional strength and comfort for the future given by the prospect of the new home, so proud of her distinguished son-in-law, that the old merry spirit sparkled forth as brightly as ever, and with it such a marked improvement in health as rejoiced Peggy's heart to behold. "Indeed, it's a perfect fraud I feel!" she explained one day, when the girl had expressed delight at her altered looks; "for I seem able to do all I want, while just as soon as I begin a tiresome duty I'm tired all over, and feel fit for nothing but to lie down on my bed. I can stand any amount of happiness, Peg, and not one little scrap of worry, and that's a disgraceful confession for a woman of my years to make to a girl like you! Ah, well, dearie, I've borne my own share of worries, and when the old ships are worn out, they don't brave the storms any more, but sail peacefully up and down the quiet streams. It's just a useless old derelict I am, and that's the truth of it."