They were to drive over to Dorchester that night, so presently they started. Two or three old slippers were thrown for good luck. Several of the younger men were quite nonplused at this arrangement, for they had planned some rather rough fun in a serenade, thinking the bridal couple would stay in town.
There were some amusements, jesting and laughter, some card-playing and health-drinking among the elders. The guests congratulated Madam Royall nearly as much as they had the bride. Then one after another came and bade her good-night, and took away their parcel of wedding cake to dream on.
"Oh," cried Doris on the way home,—the night was so pleasant they were walking,—"oh, wasn't it splendid! I wish Betty could have been there. Cary, how old must you be before you can get married?"
"Well—I should have to look up a girl."
"Oh, take Miss Alice. She likes you ever so much—I heard her say so. But you haven't any house like Mr. Winslow. Uncle Win, couldn't he bring her home to live with us?"
Cary's cheeks were in a red flame. Uncle Win laughed.
"My dear," he began, "a young man must have some business or some money to take care of his wife. She wouldn't like to be dependent on his relatives. Cary is going to study law, which will take some years, then he must get established, and so we will have to wait a long while. He is too young. Mr. Winslow is thirty; Cary isn't twenty yet."
"Oh, dear! Well, perhaps Betty will get married. The girl doesn't have to be so old?"
"No," said Uncle Win.
Betty came over the next morning to spend the day and help Miss Recompense to distill. She wanted to hear the first account from Doris and Uncle Win, to take off the edge of Jane's triumphant news.