“Hush, love, we all do our best.”
“Oh, I am sure of that; poor things.”
“Nobody can lace you if you fidget about love,” objected Mrs. Dodd.
(Bump)! “Now I don't want to hurry any man's cattle: but the bridesmaids are come.”
“Oh dear, I shall never be ready in time,” said Julia; and the tattoo recommenced.
“Plenty of time, love,” said Mrs. Dodd, quietly lacing: “not half-past ten yet. Sarah, go and see if the bridegroom has arrived.”
Sarah returned with the reassuring tidings that the bridegroom had not yet arrived; though the carriages had.
“Oh, thank Heaven, he is not come,” said Julia. “If I keep him waiting to-day, he might say—'Oho!'”
Under dread of a comment so significant she was ready at last, and said majestically he might come now whenever he liked.
Meantime, down stairs an uneasiness of the opposite kind was growing. Ten minutes past the appointed time, and the bridegroom not there. So while Julia, now full dressed, and easy in her mind, was directing Sarah's sister to lay out her plain travelling dress, bonnet and gloves on the bed, Mrs. Dodd was summoned downstairs. She came down with Julia's white gloves in her hand, and a needle and thread, the button sewed on by trade's fair hand having flown at the first strain. Edward met her on the stairs: “What had we better do, mother?” said he, sotto voce: “there must be some mistake. Can you remember? Wasn't he to call for me on the way to the church?”