Caps and Capers: A Story of Boarding-School Life

by Gabrielle E. Jackson

The wedding was to take place at four o’clock, and when that hour arrived little space was left in the church for the tardy ones.

Nearly all the girls had returned for the ceremony, and a bonnier lot it would have been difficult to find than that which filled the front pews of the church, for Miss Howard would have them all near her, insisting that none of the other guests could possibly have the same loving thoughts for her that her girls would have.

Promptly at the stroke of four the great organ rolled out its message to all, and, after her few distant relatives had been conducted to their seats, Miss Howard’s bonny bridesmaids appeared, following another fancy of hers by walking together, with the ushers leading. First came Edith and Marie; Edith’s yellow golden hair a perfect background for the big white chip hat, with its masses of violets, and her fair, soft skin made softer and fairer by the fairy-like chiffon draped so artistically over the pale violet satin beneath it. A daintily gilded basket filled with violets told all the story.

Saucy and pert beside her walked the little brownie Marie, looking for all the world like the bobbing daffies in her white basket. One wanted to sing the old nursery rhyme: “Daffy-down-dilly has come to town,” for they were nodding a friendly greeting from her hat, and seemed to lend their golden sheen to the satin beneath the white chiffon gown.

Behind them followed May Foster and Natala King. May’s bronze-brown hair and brilliant coloring were a perfect foil for the creamy-white narcissus blossoms on her hat and the creamy-white of her gown. While Natala’s light-brown hair and hazel eyes needed just the lilac tints to show how pretty they were.

Then came Ruth and Helen. Could Miss Howard have chosen two who, placed beside each other, would have formed a more pronounced contrast? Not even the solemnity of the occasion could overcome Ruth’s ruling passion, curiosity: she was determined to see all to be seen if it rested with her to do so. Nor were the pert pansy blossoms upon her hat, nodding a welcome to all, more on the alert. Or could those which peeped from the folds of her pansy-yellow gown, with its white chiffon draperies, smile in a more friendly manner than did Ruth, as she walked slowly up that aisle, with shy, modest Helen at her side. Helen looked the snowdrop to perfection, for if the pansies needed Ruth’s gypsy coloring for a foil, the snowdrops needed Helen’s pale blonde daintiness for theirs. The only color which relieved its pure white was the deep green of the wax-like leaves, and the contrast was perfect. The dress was of that soft silvery white only to be contrived by the combination of satin and chiffon, and Helen looked very lovely.

Behind them, a dream of fairness, walked Toinette. Through the chiffon of her gown ran fine golden threads, which caused it to glint and glisten as the sunbeams. The white satin underneath was of that peculiar ivory tint which combines so exquisitely with gold tints. Her hat was made of the chiffon, and trimmed with Easter lilies, which nestled in its soft folds and against the beautiful golden hair beneath them. Her basket was also white, and she was a fitting emblem of the pure soul she was leading to the altar.

Then came the bride, her hand resting lightly upon the arm of the friend who had led her along the greater part of her life’s pathway, for Miss Preston had been Miss Howard’s “guide, philosopher and friend” almost as long as she could remember. Very stately did she look, as she walked up that aisle to give away at the altar something which the years had rendered very precious to her, for sometimes “old maids’ children” are more dear to them than are the children who claim the love of parents.

Miss Preston was very proud of her honors.

But no words can describe the girl who walked at her side, her beautiful face made transcendently so by the tenderest, holiest thought that can fill a woman’s heart: that she is about to become the wife of the man she loves. She seemed to forget the church and all who were gathered there to witness her happiness, and the soft, dark eyes looked straight before her to the altar, where her husband to be awaited her, as though that altar was to her as the entrance to the holy of holies; as, indeed, it was.