“But—why not?”
“For many reasons. For one—Anna, I confess, old soldier as I am, to a little superstition on some subjects. This marriage has been already put off twice. If it should be put off a third time, it will never take place. A marriage thrice deferred never comes to pass. There, my child, go and dress. It is nine o’clock. You are two hours behind time. Alexander is nearly ready, and the minister will be here in a few minutes,” said the old gentleman, rising and gently leading his favorite out of the room.
“‘A marriage thrice deferred never comes to pass.’ I wish I was sure of that, and could defer mine just once more,” mused Anna, as she went back to her room. “And yet,” she added, compunctiously, “that is unjust and ungrateful to Alexander. Poor Alick! I dare say, in all these years, he has never even dreamed of any other girl but me, while I—while I—Ah, Heaven have pity on us! Well, well, I will bury the past deep in forgetfulness, and I will try to make him a good wife.”
When she reached her room she found Matty and Matty’s mother, Marcy, who was her own old nurse, in attendance. The fire was mended, the hearth swept and the lamps lighted. The two on her dressing-table shone down upon an open casket of jewels that blazed with blinding radiance.
Anna went wearily up to look at them.
“Mars’ Alic sent them in by his man, honey,” said Aunt Jenny in explanation.
It was a splendid set of diamonds, consisting of ear-rings, breastpin, necklace and bracelets.
“You will wear them, honey, dough dere ain’t anybody to see them?”
“Except the giver! Yes, auntie, I will wear them. Poor Alick!” sighed Anna, sitting down on her dressing-stool, and resigning herself into the hands of her attendants.
They went willingly to work. The task of arranging their mistress for her bridal was with them a labor of love.