Wynnette and Elva, who had not at all changed their pretty bridesmaids’ dresses of cream-white cashmere trimmed with satin, were seated at the piano in the drawing room, playing a duet for the entertainment of Mrs. Anglesea, who sat in a big, blue velvet rocker, and applauded whenever the music pleased her.
Miss Meeke had taken temporary charge of household affairs, and was out advising the servants.
The truth about the absence of the bridegroom had to be told some time or other, and so she told them then and there of the interrupted wedding, and of the identity of their new guest as the lawful wife of Col. Anglesea.
Though the faithful negroes were full of wrath against the impostor, and would have liked to hang him on a tree until dead, yet, upon the whole, they were glad of what had happened. They had never liked “the furriner,” as they called Col. Anglesea, and they felt secretly delighted that he was not to marry their young mistress, to take her away to “furrin” parts.
“To go to want to marry our young mistress, and he wid anoder wife libin’! Oh, de wickedness ob mankind! But it is a habit dey gibs deirselves, child’en! ’Deed it is! Nuffin’ ’tall but a habit dey gibs deirselves!” said Aunt Lucy, dogmatically.
“But ’bout de deception, miss?” inquired the cook.
“There will be no reception. The minister was requested to announce from the chancel that there could be none,” replied the young lady.
“Lor’! Lor’! Lor’! An’ all dem good t’ings to eat goin’ to waste!” deplored the cook.
“They need not. Cakes and sweetmeats and candies will keep until they are consumed.”
“Yes, miss; but de chickun sallit, an’ de bone turkey, an’ de pattydy four craws, dey won’t keep till to-morrow, not even on ice.”