“Well, I suppose I could manage it with some one to set me right when I make a mistake.”
“Oh, then you will have to do it. I shall be very much offended if you don’t and you certainly ought to dance at your granddaughter’s wedding; it wouldn’t be respectable not to.” Jack put on her most pleading expression and, as usual, won the day.
So in a few minutes the best man was bowing before Mercedes, one of the ushers had claimed Mary Lee, the young cousin had smiled inquiringly at Jean and had met an assenting smile, and so it went till every one was provided with a partner except Tucker, who properly could have none. Mr. Kirk and Miss Dolores led off, and “Pitch in Tucker” gaily rang out from under Nan’s touch. Tucker was left in the person of an old family friend of Mr. Pinckney’s age who showed such alertness as soon allowed him to secure Jack as a partner, leaving Mr. Pinckney looking wildly around.
It was a merry dance and every one felt better after it. Then the older persons begged for a chance to rest, while the younger ones asked for a two-step and then for a waltz. The old friend, Dr. Winters, put Mr. Pinckney to shame by dancing the round dances and doing it well.
“Come on, Nick,” he cried, “it would reduce your weight if you kept up this sort of thing.”
“I should think it would,” groaned Mr. Pinckney, still puffing after his recent exertions in Tucker. “I don’t want to drop in an apoplectic fit on the very eve of the wedding.” But he was induced to try the Virginia reel which Nan informed them was the same as the old dance of Sir Roger de Coverly, and this ended the evening’s dancing. Then Jennings brought in refreshments and they settled down into a quiet talk, but there was less restraint and every one felt that he or she knew every one else much better because of the rollicking dance.
The music was the first thing on Nan’s mind in the morning and after some discussion over the telephone she arranged it to her satisfaction. Some of Grieg’s bridal music, one of Chopin’s études, the prize song from the Meistersinger, and some Spanish dances were stipulated for, the rest being left to the discretion of the musicians who promised no popular airs and no Lohengrin.
As the wedding was to be at high noon the house below was given over to the florists early in the day while up-stairs the five little maids were dressing the bride and themselves. Charlotte and Jo arrived promptly and were permitted to see Miss Dolores before she should go down. She was very lovely in her trailing satin gown, and her veil of Spanish lace, arranged mantilla-wise, the orange-blossoms confining it placed as a Spanish girl might have worn them, for so maid of honor and bridesmaids decided it should be. “It is not so conventional,” said Nan, “and it is so becoming.”
Mary Lee could scarcely take her eyes from this beautiful vision long enough to attend to her own toilet, an unusual state of things for Mary Lee. However, she did give attention enough to herself to appear very dainty and pretty in her soft buff frock by the time she should be ready, and had full five minutes in which to admire herself after she was dressed. “Isn’t it a good thing,” she said to Nan, “that we shall not have to wear our frocks on the same occasion again? You will be in New York and I in Washington. They are so exactly alike, you see, and people might think there were two sets of twins in the family if we dressed in pairs.”
Nan laughed. The thought would never have bothered her. “Well, I will try to wear mine out at college festivities,” she promised, “so as not to disgruntle you, Mary Lee. Are the twinnies ready?”