Amanda’s lips parted in pleasure. “That’s Phil’s work!” she cried and ran behind the clump of bushes from where the music seemed to come. Philip was stooping to grind the motor of Landis’s Victrola.
“Phil, you dear!”
“Aren’t I though!” he said frivolously. “I had the heck of a time getting this thing here while you were dressing and keeping it hidden. I had to bribe little Charlie twice to keep him from telling you. He was so sure you’d want to know all about it.”
“It’s just the last touch we needed to make this perfect.”
“Leave it to your devoted brother. Now go back and receive the best wishes or congratulations or whatever it is they give the bride.”
Later there was supper out under the trees. A supper at which Millie, trim in her new gray Mennonite garb and white cap, was able to show her affection for the bride, but at which the bride was so riotously happy that she scarcely knew what she was eating.
Of course there was a real bride’s cake with white icing. Amanda had to cut it and hand out pieces for the young people to dream upon.
After a while the bride slipped away, took off her white dress and put on a dark suit. Then she and Martin dodged rice and were whirled away in a big automobile.
The other members of the household had much to occupy their hands for the next hour, setting things to rights, as Millie said, the while their hearts and thoughts were speeding after the two who had smiled and looked as though no other mortals had ever known such love.
When the place was once more in order and the Landis family, the last guests, had gone off in the darkness, the children flinging back loud good-nights, Mrs. Reist, Philip, Millie and Uncle Amos sat alone on the porch and talked things over.