wait a year, get over his first expenses and feel his way; but he would not hear of her going back to her work, and pleaded his solitude so piteously that she could not but consent to let it take place as soon as possible. They would fain have kept it as private as possible, but their good friends were of opinion that it was necessary to give them a start with some éclat, and insisted that it should take place with all due honours at Coles Kenton, where Mary was treated like a favoured niece, and assisted with counsel on her trousseau. The savings she had made during the long years of her engagement were enough to fit her out sufficiently to feel that she was bringing her own wardrobe, and Lady Kenton actually went to London with her to superintend the outlay.
‘Whom would they like to have asked to the wedding?’ the lady inquired, herself naming the Langs and Burfords. ‘Of course,’ she added, smiling, ‘Freda and Alice will be only too happy to be bridesmaids. Have you any one whom you would wish to ask? Your old scholars perhaps.’
‘I think,’ said Mary, hesitating, ‘that one reason why we think we ought to decline your kindness was—about his relations.’
Lady Kenton had given full license to the propriety of calling him Frank with intimate friends, but Mary always had a shyness about it.
‘Indeed, I should make no question about asking them, if I had not doubted whether, after what passed—’
‘That is all forgotten,’ said Mary gently. ‘I have had quite a nice letter since, and—’
‘Of course they must be asked,’ said Lady Kenton; ‘I should have proposed it before, but for that scene.’
‘That is nothing,’ said Mary; ‘the doubt is whether, considering the style of people, it would not be better for us to manage it otherwise, and not let you be troubled.’
‘Oh, that’s nothing! On such an occasion there’s no fear of their not behaving like the rest of the world. There are girls, I think; they should be bridesmaids.’
This very real kindness overcame all scruples, and indeed a great deal might be forgiven to Miss Marshall in consideration of the glory of telling all Westhaven of the invitation to be present ‘at my brother Lord Northmoor’s wedding, at Sir Edward Kenton’s, Baronet.’ He gave the dresses, not only the bridesmaids’ white and cerise (Freda’s choice), but the chocolate moiré which for a minute Mrs. Morton fancied ‘the little spiteful cat’ had chosen on purpose to suppress her, till assured by all qualified beholders, especially Mrs. Rollstone and a dressmaker friend, that in nothing else would she have looked so entirely quite the lady.