Mrs. Bloommaert smiled, rose quickly and began to dress. “Go now and look after tea. Make things as nice as you can. I will be downstairs in half an hour.” “And then you will stand by Leonard?” “He has not stood very well by you the last year.” “Please do not name that--do not think of it. I have always told you it was my fault.” “It tosses all my plans upside down, Sappha. I expected to have you with me in all my pleasures. I shall have to wander about London alone, and I shall have no lovely daughter to introduce. Oh, ’tis a great disappointment to me!” “We shall be together, mother. It will be all the same, and you will have Leonard also.” “My dear, Leonard will want you all the time. I know. He will grudge for any one to breathe the air of the same room with you--but if you are happy, father and I must be content without you.” “It will not be like that, mother. You will see.” “Yes, fathers and mothers all _see_. Suppose now you go and tell the women in the kitchen to get us something to eat. We shall all be more amiable if we have the teacups before us.” The discussion, however, was amiable enough. Judge Bloommaert had not watched his daughter for a year without coming to a very clear diagnosis of the conditions that alone would give her happiness; and he had plenty of that wisdom which knows the art of turning the inevitable into the thing most desirable. The hour had come. Sappha had waited with a beautiful patience for it; he was resolved to give her its joy, fully and freely, and without any holdback. “Carlita,” he said, as soon as mutual greetings were over, “Carlita, Leonard wishes to marry Sappha at once, and go with us to England. I think it is a good plan. What say you?” “I think with you always, Gerardus.” “Such hurry will only admit of a very simple wedding ceremony, but Leonard says that is what Sappha and he prefer; and as it is their marriage, they have a right of choice. Eh, Leonard?” “As you say, sir. Mr. and Mrs. Livingston will represent my friends, and if Sappha’s nearest relatives are witnesses the company will be of the proper size. Why should we ask half of New York to gaze at the most sacred and private of all domestic events?” “Well, then, we will let it be so. Can you arrange for such a wedding, Carlita--say on the morning of the day we leave?” “I can do my best, Gerardus.” “The packet sails at two o’clock in the afternoon. I suppose the marriage could take place at twelve.” “Better say at ten o’clock, Gerardus. We shall need time to change our dresses and pack up the last things.” “True. Then, Leonard, we will say ten o’clock next Wednesday. Is that right?” “If Sappha and Mrs. Bloommaert say so. I suppose it cannot be Saturday or Monday?” “Impossible,” answered Mrs. Bloommaert. “There is a wedding dress to make.” “Sappha has plenty of pretty dresses.” “She has not, however, a wedding dress. She cannot be married without one.”