In the height of the women's delight and gratitude, Robert set off on his wedding journey. His joy infected the whole house. Even the cross McNab and the mournful Jepson were heard laughing, and Christina spoke of this as among the wonderfuls of her existence. Perhaps the one most pleased was Mrs. Campbell. She had been surrounded by the same depressing furniture and upholstery for thirty-seven years, and she had almost a childish pleasure in the new white lace curtains which had been hung in her rooms. They gave her a sense of youth, of something unusually happy and hopeful. Many times in a day, she went, unknown to any one, into the drawing-room and took the fine lace drapery in her fingers, to examine and admire its beauty. The girls also were more cheerful. Indeed, the tone of the house had been uplifted and changed, and all through the influence of more light, some graceful modern furniture, and a little—alas, that it was so little!—good will and gratitude.
On the fifth of October Robert Campbell was married, and about a week afterwards, Archie St. Claire called one evening upon his family.
"I have just returned from Kendal," he said, "and I thought you would like to hear about the wedding. You were none of you there."
"We had satisfactory reasons for not going," answered Mrs. Campbell.
"I was Robert's best man."
"I supposed so. Robert said very little about his arrangements. What do you think of the bride?"
"She is a most beautiful woman, fine-natured and sweet-tempered, and loved by all who come near her. Robert has found a jewel."
"How was she dressed?" asked Isabel.
"Perfectly. White satin and lace, of course, but what I liked was the simplicity of the gown. I heard some one call it a Princess shape. It fit her beautiful form without a crease, and fell in long soft folds to her white shoes."
"White shoes? Nonsense!" ejaculated Mrs. Campbell.