“Shucks!” exclaimed Ann. “As though our Ruth couldn’t have all she wants if she wants them.”
“I really wish you would not speak plurally of them, Ann,” cried Ruth, laughing. “You will make me feel like the Queen of the Amazons. They say she keeps a masculine harem—like a bey, or a sultan, or something of that kind.”
“Be serious,” rejoined Helen. “I mean what I say. Jennie’s great day has arrived. And she is the first of all our old bunch that went to Briarwood—and surely of those who went to Ardmore College—to fetter herself to a man for life.”
“Well, I shall never be fettered, even if I am married,” observed Ann. “I’d like to see myself!”
“If the right man comes riding by, Ann, even you will change your mind,” Ruth said softly.
“Then I suppose the right man has never ridden up to the Red Mill and asked for you?” demanded Helen, with a glance at her chum that was rather piercing.
“Perhaps he has,” said Ruth composedly, “but I wasn’t at home. Aunt Alvirah thinks I am almost never at home. And, girls, as I told you yesterday, I am going soon on another journey.”
“Oh, Ruth, I’ve been thinking of that!” Helen rejoined, with a sudden access of interest and excitement. “To the Thousand Islands! And at the loveliest time of all the year up there.”
“And that is only the truth,” said one of the other bridesmaids. “We spent last summer there.”
“The Copleys always go,” Helen remarked quietly.