I would like, also, to give my reader a glimpse of the young bridegroom-expectant on this the morning of his wedding day, in his temporary home in the apartment house occupied by Stuart and Palma.
The three young people breakfasted together in the little, elegant parlor of the Stuarts’ suite of rooms, Mrs. Pole waiting on them.
Ran’s face shone with joy that he could not hide; Cleve’s and Palma’s were bright with sympathetic smiles.
Ran had entreated Mike Man to come and share his rooms at these flats until the wedding day and the embarkation for Europe, but Mike had steadily refused, declaring that, well as he loved his brother-in-law, he would be out of place among Ran’s fine friends, and that he would feel more at home “along wid Samson and Dandy.” Mike had decided to accompany these old friends to Europe, in the second cabin of the same steamer on which Ran had taken a stateroom in the first cabin for himself and his bride. These three miners were going home to the old country to settle there. Different motives actuated the three. Old Dandy wished to spend his declining years among old friends. Longman wanted to return to his aged and widowed mother. Mike could not stay behind all his friends, and must go with them.
What each was to do on the other side of the ocean was not very clear, even to themselves. Each had a little money saved up. Dandy thought he would sink his savings in a life annuity. Longman hoped to get a gamekeeper’s place on some estate. Mike wanted to go to school for a little while. He was really nineteen years old, but so small and slender that he might easily have passed for a schoolboy. But he meant to keep near his mining “pards,” so as not to “inthrude” on Ran and Judy and their fine friends.
Vainly had faithful Ran combated this resolution. Mike had been firm, and Ran had to yield the point.
Now, as Ran sat at table with Stuart and Palma, the latter said to him:
“You and Judy will be married as Cleve and myself were—without bridesmaid or groomsman.”
“Yes,” said Ran; “but it is not my fault or Judy’s. I wanted Judy’s brother, my old partner, Mike Man, to be my groomsman, which would have been right enough; but Mike stoutly refused. If Mike had consented to stand up with me, then Judy might have had a bridesmaid in one of the Moseley young ladies. But, no; Mike was as stubborn as a mule. To be sure, I know that Mr. Jim Moseley and Miss Betty Moseley would have kindly stood up with us, but Judy said no; and so we must stand up alone.”
“It is just as well. And now, my dear,” said Palma, rising from her seat with a pretty little matronly air of authority, “as you have finished your breakfast, you had better go and dress yourself. Your carriage was ordered at half-past nine, I think. When you have finished, come to me that I may put the last touches on your toilet—twirl the curls and mustache, and pin the boutonnière, as you have no valet. Though, I suppose, you will set up some Monsieur Frangipanni as your personal attendant and dresser.”