But Ethel's mirth did not communicate itself to Lesley. There was nothing forced or unnatural in the young bride's happiness, but Lesley felt as if some cloud, some shadow, were in the air. Perhaps she had had bad dreams. She would not damp Ethel's spirits by a word of warning, but the old aunt from the country who came to inspect her niece as soon as she was dressed for church was not so considerate.
"You are letting your spirits run away with you, my dear," she said, reprovingly. "Even on a wedding-day there should not be too much laughter. Tears before night, when there has been laughter before breakfast, remember the proverb says."
"Oh, what a cheerful old lady!" said Ethel, brimming over with saucy laughter once more, as soon as the old dame's back was turned. "I don't care: I don't mean to be anything but a smiling bride—Oliver says that he hates tears at a wedding, and I don't mean him to see any."
Maurice arrived just in time to dress and to escort his sister to the church. It was not he, but Mrs. Durant, the companion and house-keeper, who first received a word of warning that things were not altogether as they should be. Others beside Lesley were scenting calamity in the air. Mrs. Romaine was to form one of the wedding-party. She made her appearance at a quarter to ten, beautifully dressed, but white to the very lips, and with a haggard look about her eyes. As soon as she entered the house she drew Mrs. Durant aside.
"Has Oliver been sleeping here?" she asked.
"Here!" Mrs. Durant's indignant accent was sufficient answer.
"He has not been home all night," Mrs. Romaine whispered.
"Not at home!"
"I suppose he is sleeping at his club and will come on from there," Mrs. Romaine answered, trying to reassure herself now that she had given the alarm to another. "Everything has been ordered—my bouquet came from him, at least from the florist's this morning—and I suppose we shall find him at the church. But I have been dreadfully anxious about him—quite foolishly, I daresay. Don't say anything to any body else."
Mrs. Durant did not mean to say anything, but—without exactly stating facts—she had managed in about three minutes to convey her own and Mrs. Romaine's feeling of discomfort, to the whole party. The only exceptions were Maurice and Ethel, who, of course, heard nothing. A gloom fell upon the guests even while the carriages were standing at the door.