"Lor', my dearie, what a pretty picture you be, to be sure!" was Granny Grimshaw's greeting, and again a tremor of misgiving went through the girl's heart. Had she made herself too pretty for the occasion?
She mustered spirit, however, to laugh at the compliment, and busied herself with the final arrangements.
Jeff appeared a few minutes later, clad in black but not in evening dress. His eyes dwelt upon his wife for a moment or two before he addressed her.
"Do you mind being in the parlour when they come in?"
She looked up at him with a smile which she knew to be forced. "Are you sure I shan't be one too many, Jeff?"
"Quite," said Jeff.
There was no appealing against that, and she accompanied him without further words.
Jim Dawlish was standing by the parlour door, admiring his handiwork. He nudged Jeff as he went by, and was rewarded by Jeff's heaviest scowl.
A minute later, to Doris's mingled relief and dread, came the sounds of the first arrival.