“Isn’t it a lovely morning!” said Annie. “I am so glad, you can’t tell, dear. I should have hated it to be wet. Don’t you look rather pale this morning, or is it my fancy, Olly, dear?”
“Am I pale?” said Olivia, glancing at her white face in the glass. “But it is quite correct, is it not? Brides should be pale, shouldn’t they?” and she smiled.
The two light-hearted girls looked at her with a slightly puzzled stare. The change that had come over the subject of their worship bewildered and troubled them; but they were as far from understanding it as they could well be.
“Everybody is up early to-day,” said Mary. “The whole house is on the move. Oh, dear, I begin to feel quite nervous. Is there anything we can do, dearest? Perhaps you would like to try your dress on again,” coaxingly.
Olivia shook her head with another forced smile.
“I think not, Mary, dear. I’m afraid we are all rather tired of trying on the wedding garment.”
“Oh, no, indeed we’re not!” they exclaimed in chorus. “We like it. You can’t tell how lovely you look in it, Olivia. I should like all the world to see you,” said Annie, with a pensive sigh. “I wish I were a man and Mr. Bradstone.”
“I wish you were!” said Olivia, absently.
The girls laughed.
“What a strange speech for a bride-elect, Olly. But, oh, I wanted to ask you,” said Mary, “is it true that Mr. Faradeane is not coming to the wedding? We only heard it from Aunt Amelia last night. She came into our room to look at our dresses.”