Interest in the bride and in their own part of the wedding ceremony had caused the “Merry Hearts” to forget Dr. Eaton, and they had never once considered that of course his college chum, John Alison, would leave the railroad he was building in Arizona and come east to be Dr. Eaton’s best man. And it was Mr. John Alison who had “finished” Georgia Ames. He inquired for her at once and so did his brother Tom, who was an usher, and who explained that he had been invited to keep John in order, and to intercede for him with the “posts.”
“And in return for my services as peacemaker,” he said solemnly, “I expect to be treated with special consideration by everybody.” Subsequent events seemed to show that the special consideration referred to meant a chance to see as much as possible of Betty Wales.
Even more surprising to three of the posts was the presence of Mr. Richard Blake in the wedding-party—Richard Blake, editor of “The Quiver,” and one-time lecturer at Harding on the tendencies of modern drama.
Eleanor’s face was a study when she recognized him, but before Miss Hale could begin any introductions Madeline greeted him enthusiastically and got him into a corner, where they exchanged low-toned confidences for a moment.
“I’m particularly glad to meet you again, Miss Watson,” he said in a tone of unmistakable sincerity, when he was presented. “We had a jolly dinner together once, didn’t we?”
“Dick’s such an old dear,” Madeline whispered to Betty half an hour later. “He confided to me just now that the first evening he saw Eleanor he thought her the most fascinating girl he had ever met, and then he hastened to assure me that that had absolutely nothing to do with his deciding to keep dark about her story. I don’t doubt him for a moment—Dick perfectly detests cheating. But he can’t make me believe that he’s being nice to her now just on my account.”
There were plenty of other men at the wedding. “We’re the only girls in the whole family,” Charlotte, Ethel’s younger sister explained, “and we have thirty own cousins, most of them grown-up.”
“Was that one of the thirty that you were sitting on the stairs with at the dance?” inquired Mary Brooks sweetly.
Charlotte blushed and Bob flew to her rescue. “We all know why Mary isn’t monopolizing any one,” she said. “Are you taking notes for future use, Mary?”
Mary shrugged her shoulders loftily. “I scorn to answer such nonsense,” she retorted. “I’m going to be an old maid and make matches for all my friends.”