How it came to be there, no one could say. Evidently someone, perhaps, the one who had stolen it, had dropped it, and travelled on, unaware that the famous miniature lay waiting a claimant, on the main road of Cliffmore.
The Summer colony was excited, but of all those who were invited to be present, none were more lovingly interested than the children.
John Atherton loved the children, and they dearly loved him.
One would have thought that the grand old house of the Vandmere's would have been chosen for the wedding, but Iris was quite alone there, save for her servants.
Both parents had but recently passed away, and the lonely girl felt that the home with its sad memories was not at all the place for the happy event.
"Let it be at Cliffmore," she had said, and at Cliffmore it was to be.
"Only think of it," Princess Polly said one morning, "Rose is to be maid of honor, and Sprite and I are to be bridesmaids. Rose is to wear pink, with pink roses, and we shall wear white with pink roses. Miss Iris will wear white, because brides always wear white. Mamma, why can't brides sometimes wear something else?"
Mrs. Sherwood laughed.
"This time the bride will wear 'something else.' Miss Vandmere's gown will be of the palest blue satin, and beautiful lace," she said.
"Oh, how lovely!" cried Princess Polly.