“There! Take this, honey,” she said, in presenting it. “I ain’t got no use for it. I bought it when my dear old man made his first haul, and we went up to ’Frisco to sell the dust and have a lark. It took my fancy, for I thought it was a snuffbox. Now, all the wimmin out at Wild Cats’ either smoked pipes or took snuff. As for me, I did neither. Couldn’t get into the way of it, you see. But when I saw this splendid snuffbox—as I thought it was—I just said to myself I’d buy it, and carry it in my pocket, to have it always about me to remind me as I was getting to be a rich ’oman, and to take it out and make a show of it by offering of any one who might drop in a pinch of snuff, even if I never sniffed a sniff myself. I thought it would take them all down. But, Lord! didn’t one of ’em take me down, neither, when she up and told me as this was a wisitin’ cardcase, and wouldn’t do to hold snuff noways? Well, honey, it never was no use to me, for what call had I for a wisitin’ cardcase at Wild Cats’? No, we didn’t send up our cards when we called on our neighbors there. We didn’t often put on our bonnets to go a-wisitin’. We just hev a’ old shawl over our heads and run in and out ’mong neighbors. We did.”
Natalie warmly thanked the donor, as soon as she could get a chance to speak.
Dr. Ingle and Miss Meeke were married on the twentieth of January.
The sky had cleared, the ground had dried, the roads were good.
The wedding was a quiet one, no one being invited but the oldest and most intimate friends of the parties—that is to say, the Rev. Dr. and Mrs. Peters, of All Faith Rectory; the Grandieres, of Oldfield; the Elks, of Grove Hill; Miss Bayard, of Forest Rest, and Mr. Roland Bayard, of nowhere in particular.
The ceremony was performed in the drawing room of Mondreer, by the Rev. Dr. Peters. The bride was given away by Mr. Force. She wore the elegant wedding dress which had been prepared for Odalite; the two little bridesmaids wore the same dresses in which they had appeared at the attempted wedding of the month previous. Roland Bayard was the groomsman.
Immediately after the ceremony the bride’s cake was cut and served. Roland Bayard received the hidden ring, which promised him a bride in the course of the year, and he immediately crossed the room and put it on the finger of little Rosemary Hedge, amid the good-humored congratulations and laughter of the little company, and to the great confusion of the quaint, little girl who had been favored.
Soon after this the negro fiddlers came in and tuned up their instruments.
The young men took their partners and the dancing began.
Roland Bayard, as groomsman, opened the ball with the bride. Dr. Ingle, with the first bridesmaid, was their vis-à-vis. The dancing continued until ten o’clock, when an elegant little supper was served in the dining room.