Grey is no longer the compulsory shade for a widow's wedding frock. Any light, delicate colour may be worn; but a woman has only one white wedding and one bridal veil in her life. The widow is not supposed to make a display over her wedding. An air of somewhat chastened joy is considered more suitable. Instead of bridesmaids she has one lady attendant who should be in her place in church before the bride arrives, and be ready to move to her side when required, to take the gloves and bouquet (which should not be composed of purely white flowers, nor is orange blossom permissible). There may be a second edition of the wedding cake and the presents, but favours and floral tributes are things of the past.

The Home.

If the widow has a nice home of her own she and her husband may decide to live in it; but he will need to exercise tact in taking up his position as master of a household that has hitherto gone on quite well without him. An entire change of servants would probably be advisable if not inevitable. The wife would be careful to give him his full dignity, and not to let it appear that he was to be regarded in the light of a pensioner on her bounty.

The Widower.

A man whose wife dies leaving him with young children, or even one baby, is in a most pathetic position, and the best thing he can do is to find some nice woman to console him and mother the little ones. It is a pity that the two {[116]} qualifications cannot always go together. It is rather risky for a sister or a niece to regard the home offered her by a widowed brother or uncle as a permanency. Men who are apparently satisfied with existing arrangements have a way of springing surprises upon their devoted womenfolk, and when the new wife appears, the sister or niece who has tided him over the worst part of his life must find a home elsewhere. Of course the man is quite within his rights, but I would warn those who may be living in a fool's paradise.

The widower with a house or estate would, naturally, consult the future mistress of it about any alterations he proposed making before his marriage. On her visits of inspection she would either be chaperoned by her mother or some married relation; but, if more convenient, he would ask a lady friend to come and meet her. If he had a grown-up daughter she would continue to preside over his household till after his marriage. It is not fair for a man to take a second wife without giving any previous intimation to his adult sons and daughters who may still be making their home with him. The installation of a girl step-mother over youths of her own age places them all in rather a difficult position, and has the possible making of a tragedy in it. The widower who marries a spinster may go through all the glories of a smart wedding for a second or third time if he likes, seeing that it is the condition of the bride that decides such matters.

Comparison with the Predecessor.

Those who play the role of No. 2 must make up their minds to be compared, in thought if not in word, involuntarily if not intentionally, with No. 1, and the process need not necessarily be painful. Unless there has been some distressing or tragic element in the first marriage, why should the memory of the dead be banished, except by jealousy or inconstancy? It is not generous of No. 2 to try and sweep away all traces of the predecessor. The man or woman who will lightly abandon all the memories of the partner of youth, is not so calculated to make an ideal companion for middle age as the one who cherishes a tender regard for the dead side by side with an honest love for the living.

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CHAPTER XXI