“But she’s dirty,” said Mrs. Bayes; “she’ll spoil your frocks.”
“Very likely got something catching,” said Mr. Bayes.
“What a rotter you are, Anne!” said the others.
But meanwhile a porter had opened the door and pushed the old woman in. Anne stood up to give her her place; the others moved to the other end; and Mr. Bayes, who, after all, was a very good father and exceedingly keen about health, let down the window with a bang and hid behind his paper.
“I’m sure,” said the old woman to Anne, “I’m very much obliged to you, missy.”
She got out at the next station, and as she did so she handed Anne a little paper article from her basket, for she was a pedlar, and said it was a present for her for being so good-natured; and so saying she hobbled off, and Mr. Bayes blew hard through his lips, as if he had come up from a long dive, and Mrs. Bayes made the children smell at her salts.
When Anne looked at her present she found it was a halfpenny row of pins, and this made every one laugh and quite happy again. Anne put them in her pocket and laughed too, although how she could find it in her heart to laugh, after ruining the railway journey like that by her unfortunate trick of good nature, I can’t think.
The wedding was a great success until Cousin Alice, the bride—and a very pretty bride too—was coming down the aisle on Captain Vernon’s arm (and the Captain looked every inch a soldier, and had across his forehead the nicest brown line, which he had brought back with him from Egypt, where he had been on duty before he hurried home to marry Cousin Alice); all went well until a silly boy, in his desire to cross the church and get to the door first and begin to throw confetti, stepped on Cousin Alice’s beautiful white satin train and tore a yard or two nearly off.
She was as sweet about it as only Cousin Alice could be, but she stopped and picked it up, and looked round imploringly for help. And then happened that which I need hardly tell you, for you have guessed it already. The only person that had any pins was Anne, who stepped out of her pew and handed her little halfpenny row to Captain Vernon; and there and then, several people helping, the beautiful white satin train was made all right again, at least for the time being, and the bride and bridegroom walked on, smiling to right and left, and ducked their heads outside as the flowers and confetti rained on them, and got into the brougham, and the coach-man cracked his whip with the white rosette on it, and they were driven to Uncle Maurice’s house, where Cousin Alice used to live, but where she would now live no more.
After a while the Bayes family, with many other guests, arrived there too, to stay for a few minutes to see the presents and say good-bye to the bride. It was a morning wedding, because they were going on a very long journey.