“Hush!” cried Laura hoarsely, as, by a strong effort, she recovered herself. “Did you—did you say Max was here?”
“No—no! I said I wished he was here,” said Mrs Bray pettishly. “I do not see what you have got to turn queer about in that. Your own brother too!”
Laura gave a sigh of relief and then closed her eyes for a few moments.
“Only a little while now,” she thought.
The hour was very near, and surely nothing could stay the event.
Then, summoning her resolution she began to pace slowly up and down the room. No tremulous maiden now, but a firm determined woman, who told herself that she had persevered and won the lover—the husband soon.
“What are we waiting for?” said Mr Bray.
“Two bridesmaids,” said Mrs Bray: “Nelly and Miss Barnett. But we have plenty of time; and the Miss Lingons are not here yet. O, here they are, though!”
The young ladies were set down at the door as she spoke; and soon the Bray drawing-room was well filled.
The horses were pawing up the gravel, to the disgust of the gardener, who thought of the rolling to be done; but went and drowned his sorrows in some of the beer on the way, with ample solids, in the Bray kitchen.