start.
"Not he: I asked him again on Saturday, and he refused."
"Perhaps," said Lesley, not very steadily, "it gives him pain to be present at a wedding: he speaks sometimes—as if he did not like to hear of them."
"Oh, you poor, dear thing, I had forgotten all that trouble," said Ethel, giving her friend a hug which nearly strangled her; "but won't it come right in the end? Captain Duchesne says that she is so sweet, so charming—and your father is just delightful."
"I think I can't talk about it," said Lesley, very quietly.
"Then we won't. Did you know I had asked Captain Duchesne to the breakfast?"
"Oh, Ethel, how heartless of you!" Lesley said, laughing in spite of herself. For Captain Duchesne's devotion was patent to all the world.
At last they slept in each other's arms; but at seven o'clock Ethel was skimming about the room like a busy fairy, and it was Lesley, sleeping heavily after two or three wakeful nights, who had to be aroused by the little bride-elect, and Ethel laughed merrily to see her friend's start of surprise.
"Ethel! Ethel! People should be waiting on you and here you are bringing me tea and bread and butter. This is too bad!"
"It's a new departure," Ethel laughed. "There is no law against a bride's making herself useful as well as ornamental, is there? You will have to hurry up, all the same, Lesley: we are dreadfully late already. And it is the loveliest morning you ever saw—and the bouquets have just come from the florist—and everything is charming! I feel as if I could dance."