“Then, dear, are you willing that Mrs. Stuart and myself should make all the arrangements for you?”
“I should be very grateful to you, madam.”
“Look here! I am not going to be left out in the cold!” exclaimed Augusta Walling, laughing and joining the circle.
“Of course you are not! How should you be, when we are hoping that the wedding breakfast will be served right here in your house on Saturday morning next?” said Mrs. Moseley, well knowing that she might take a much greater liberty than that with her old schoolmate.
“That will be perfectly delightful!” exclaimed Mrs. Walling. “I adore a wedding breakfast at home, and never expected to enjoy one until my own daughter, now at Vassar, grows up and gets married. Miss Judith, shall this be so? Will you place yourself in my hands?”
“Sure and”—brightly exclaimed Judy, and then she stopped suddenly, blushed and amended her speech—“I should be glad and grateful, ma’am,” she answered.
Then Mrs. Walling turned to Palma, saying:
“And you will give me back your guest in time? You are rather too young a matron to chaperon a bride-elect,” she added with a smile.
“As you and my cousins please, dear Mrs. Walling. I should myself be very happy to serve them, but I will not stand in the way of another who can do so much better,” replied Palma.
“That’s a dear, unselfish angel!” exclaimed Mrs. Walling. And then the four women formed themselves into a committee of ways and means, and discussed wedding breakfasts, trousseaus and so forth, treating Judy with as much freedom, tenderness and liberality as if she had been their own child, until the gentlemen came in and the subject was dropped.