The day before the wedding the old house was a pleasant scene of bustle and confusion.
Professional decorators were in charge of the great drawing-room, building a canopy of green vines and flowers, beneath which the bridal pair should stand the next day at high noon.
This work was greatly hindered by a bevy of young people who thought they were helping.
At last, noting a look of dumb exasperation on the face of one of the florist’s men, Molly Gardner exclaimed, “I don’t believe our help is needed here; come on, Kitty, let’s go in the library and wait for tea-time.”
It was nearly five o’clock, and the girls found most of the house guests already assembled in the library, awaiting the arrival of the tea-tray.
Several other young people were there also, most of them being those who were to be of the wedding cortège next day.
Robert Fessenden, who was to be best man, had just come from New York, and had dropped in to see Miss Van Norman.
Although he was an old friend of Carleton’s, Madeleine did not know him very well, and though she made him welcome, it was with that coldly formal air that did not greatly attract the young man, but he could not fail to be impressed by her great beauty.
“Lucky fellow, Carleton,” he said to Tom Willard. “Why, that woman would create a sensation in any great city in the world.”
“Yes, she is too handsome to live all her life in a small village,” agreed Tom. “I think they intend to travel a great deal.”