"On one's wedding journey? Never! How can you think of it, Aunt Kitty? Don't you see—"
"Of course I see," she broke in. "Forgive me. It never once occurred to me."
Then they let that question drop, having been frightened away by thus straying on dangerous ground.
The arrangements for the nuptials were all completed in the next hour. They were not to be in any wise simple. They were to be very imposing, in fact, with a whole house full of guests, hurriedly brought together, yet every one under a strict bond of secrecy.
Rosamond was to stop on at the Manse until the second day before. Then she was to withdraw her trousseau from where it had been so hurriedly rushed into storage in London and appear at Bellingdown on the eve of her last day of maidenhood.
Lord Waltheof was deputed to look after minor details; but Lord Kneedrock, could his consent be obtained, was to be best man.
Carleigh saw personally to this, of course, and encountered no trouble. Kneedrock consented without demur and offered to see his grace, the Archbishop of Highshire, and arrange with him to perform the ceremony.
And, wonder of wonders, everything was carried out precisely as planned! The September day proved glorious. The sun shone on the bride in good omen, and the bride was a picture of loveliness.
Many of the presents, returned six weeks before, came back in the same wrappings, and most of the rest would probably come later when the givers learned what had happened and how.
But no one—not even Lady Bellingdown—was given a hint as to the honeymoon destination of bride and bridegroom.