"Of course," admitted Nancy, with her comely head held high. Then, as Jane’s white skirts in the shadow caught her eye, "Why, there ’s Janey! You dear! Oh, how good it looks to see you standing there!" At the cry three doors flew wide open, and Mr. Bell, Ross, and Rufus appeared simultaneously upon their respective thresholds, while a voice from within called, "Is Jane there? Come here, dear!" "O mother, let me do your hair, will you?" offered Jane, eagerly, when she had succeeded in making her way past the embraces of her delighted family. "Not in that dress, child! Mercy, remember it’s your wedding-gown, and don’t whisk round so! Sit down there and let me look at you while I put my hair up; it won’t take but a minute, and then you shall help me into my dress." "If you won’t let me do your hair, I ’ll go sew up Pete’s buttonhole. I must do something for somebody. It seems so funny to have got dressed over in the big house. I just had to come over here and see the rest of you getting ready and consulting each other on details as usual. Where’s your work-basket, mother dear? Nan," running to the door--"don’t you _dare_ to mend Peter’s shirt! I want to do it myself." "All right, Mrs. Townsend, nothing will suit me better," declared Peter, with satisfaction, kneeling in front of his sister with his back to her, while she sat on the edge of his splint-bottomed armchair and threaded her needle. "What does Murray think, by the way, of having his bride rush over here to assist her family, and leave him to shift for himself? Why are n’t you putting in his studs and things, like a dutiful wife?" "He could n’t get home from the office till the last minute. Mr.--Father Townsend wanted to consult him on so much that’s happened while we ’ve been gone. Of course I ’m going back before he comes," responded Jane. "Dear me--wreck is certainly the word for this buttonhole. Did you try to put your thumb through it?" "Tried to climb through it myself bodily at the last. Anything better calculated to put a fellow into a lovely frame of mind for an affair where’s he’s expected to make himself agreeable I don’t know. Wrestling to get an iron collar on a steel neckband is--well--it’s a trifle upsetting to the nerves. Be sure you get that buttonhole the right size. Better try the collar-button in it before you make fast." "When you ’re done with him you can tie my tie for me, if you ’re looking for work," announced Rufus, appearing in the doorway. "I can’t seem to get the right curve on the thing." "Janey, would you wear this bracelet Shirley gave me last Christmas, or would n’t you?" Nancy looked in over Rufus’s shoulder. At eighteen she was tall for her years; at twenty-one Rufus, although sturdily built, had no advantage of her in inches. It was Peter, with his six feet of brawn, who was the family pride in the matter of size.