The morning light brought the golden wedding before her in a more cheerful aspect, and she had gathered most of her flowers and was arranging them in a large basket before Arthur joined her, accusing her of being unnecessarily early.
“Oh, I wanted to gather plenty. Look. I have put the hothouse flowers in the centre, and then the outdoor ones, and ferns round the edge.”
“And what’s that?”
“That is a note from Aunt Lily to ask them to come up to dinner to-night. It is all ready now.”
Arthur took up the basket, and they went down the garden, out at a side-gate, and across the road into the almost adjoining garden of the Rectory. This was small, but within walls, and so gay with flowers as to seem to render Mysie’s gift unnecessary. Arthur gave her one side of the basket, and they came across the lawn in the bright morning sunshine up to the open French window of the dining-room, where Mr and Mrs Harcourt had already perceived them.
“Here comes the young couple to see the old one!”
“We have brought you some flowers.”
“We have come to wish you many happy returns of the day,” said both at once.
Mrs Harcourt took the flowers, and her husband, kissing Mysie, held out his hand to Arthur.
“God bless you, my dear children, and give you fifty such happy years as He has given to my wife and me!”