THE BRIDE’S ARRIVAL
Next morning, when Nickey brought up the mail, Mrs. Burke looked anxiously over her letters until she came to the one she was expecting. She read it in silence.
The gist of the matter was that Maxwell had been married to the nicest girl in the world, and was looking forward to having Mrs. Burke meet her, and to have his wife know the woman who had been so supremely good to him in the parish. He closed by informing her that they were to return the next day at 123 five P. M., and if it were not asking too much, he hoped that she would take them in for a few days until they could find quarters elsewhere. The letter was countersigned by a pretty little plea for friendship from “Mrs. Betty.”
Mrs. Burke replaced the letter and murmured to herself, smiling:
“Poor little dear! Of course they could come and stay as long as they pleased; but as the rectory is in order, I think that I’ll meet them at the depot, and take them there direct. They’ll be much happier alone by themselves from the start. I’ll have supper ready for ’em, and cook the chickens while they’re unpackin’ their trunks.”
As Mrs. Burke thought it best to maintain a discreet silence as to the time of their arrival, there was no one but herself to meet them at the station when the train pulled in. As Maxwell presented his wife to Mrs. Burke, Hepsey took the girl’s two hands in hers and kissed her heartily, and then, looking at her keenly as the bride blushed under her searching gaze, she remarked:
“You’re a dreadful disappointment, Mrs. Maxwell. I’m afraid it’ll take me a long time to get over it.”
“I am horribly sorry to disappoint you so, Mrs. Burke.” 124
Maxwell laughed, while Mrs. Betty looked puzzled.
“Yes,” Mrs. Burke continued, “you’re a dreadful disappointment. Your picture isn’t half as sweet as you are.” Then turning to Maxwell, she said: