He laughed heartily at her sober face and air of housewifely prudence. “My dear,” he whimsically told her, “dinna’ ye mind the cost. A weddin’ doesna’ often happen in one’s lifetime, sae we’ll make it a grand one this time.”
“Ye’ll spoil me, Robbie,” she answered, smiling happily.
“Nay, ye’re too sweet and lovely to be spoiled.”
“Well, ye ken,” she replied demurely, “sweet things spoil the quickest.”
Before he could reply, the rattle of a carriage over the pavement sounded loudly through the room. As it stopped at the door, Mary gave a little sigh of regret. “It’s Mrs. Dunlop, returning for me at last,” she said. She secretly hoped the sharp old eyes would not miss the cloak.
“Aye, like the good fairy godmother,” smiled Robert, as he led her out of the room and down the stairs.
“I feel as if I were in a dream,” she murmured softly, picking up her train, and lovingly holding it over her arm, as she walked daintily across the sidewalk to the waiting carriage. “If I am, laddie,” she continued earnestly, “I hope I may never awake from it; I want to dream on forever.”