Towards the end of November Aldyth was again at Wyndham, and ere the month was out, Gladys's wedding took place. A simple wedding it was said to be, but it was a simplicity which required the richest white satin and the daintiest etcæteras. Mrs. Stanton could never have forgiven herself if she had allowed Gladys to be married in a common fashion.
The good people at Woodham appreciated the spectacle prepared for their delectation, and many were of opinion that a handsomer bridegroom or a prettier bride had never crossed the threshold of the parish church. Aldyth and Nelly were the bridesmaids, and looked exceedingly well in their cream cashmere and rose colour. But perhaps the most impressive figure in the little group gathered in the chancel was that of Mrs. Stanton. The strong sea air had driven away every trace of her illness; her fine form, her handsome features, her masses of silvery hair had never looked more imposing, and she bore herself with even more them her usual grace and dignity. Robed in silver-grey silk and wearing a bonnet of the same delicate hue, it was remarked that she looked almost like a bride herself. Perhaps it was soon to lay aside her widow's mourning, but a daughter's wedding was an exceptional occurrence.
The church bells clanged joyously throughout the day; but by four o'clock the excitement at Wyndham was over, and the happy pair had driven away to catch the London express. The usual sense of blankness which follows the departure of the bride made itself felt. Aldyth strove with the feeling, but it was inevitable that the parting with her sister and the ending of her brief experience of home life should cause her keen regret. No plan for the future had as yet been determined on. The time had come when her mother could no longer refuse to discuss the matter. Something must be decided.
Not till night came could Aldyth secure a quiet talk with her mother. A few of the guests were persuaded to spend the evening at the Hall. Mr. Greenwood and Miss Lorraine were the last to leave, the banker having offered that lady a seat in his brougham. Miss Lorraine drew her niece aside for a moment in the hall.
"Ah, Aldyth," she said, tenderly, "I can see how you feel losing Gladys and—all these changes. But you will try to make the best of things, and remember there is always a home for you with me whenever you want one."
Aldyth smiled and thanked her; but she wondered at her aunt's words. How could she want a home? Her home must be with her mother, and she hardly supposed that Miss Lorraine would be willing to receive them both for an indefinite period.
But the future was to take a form of which she had never dreamed.
As soon as the guests were gone, Mrs. Stanton dismissed Nelly to bed, then calling Aldyth to her, she said, with rather a nervous smile—
"Let us have a talk, Aldyth. Now the wedding is over, we can think of our own affairs."
"Willingly," said Aldyth, stirring up the fire and preparing for a cosy time. "Have you thought where you would like to live, mamma?"