“The happy pair,” whispered Edie as she placed her little hand upon Guest’s arm. “Get me to the carriage, please, as quickly as you can, or I shall cry and make a scene.”
“Yes, yes,” he whispered back. “This way; but, Edie, I’ve been looking all round the church and can’t see him. Did you catch sight of Stratton?”
“No,” said the girl with some asperity, “and did not wish to. I could only see that poor girl going through the ceremony, and I felt all the time I could read her thoughts. O Percy Guest, if she only had not had so much pride, or Malcolm Stratton had been as bold as he was shrinking and strange, this never could have been!”
Back at Bourne Square, with all the hurry and excitement of a wedding morning. The house crowded with friends, and Sir Mark all eagerness to do the honours of his place well to all. Carriages thronged the roadway; a couple of policemen kept back the little crowd, and the admiral’s servants, re-enforced by half a dozen of Gunter’s men, had a busy time supplying the wants of the guests.
“Well, you two,” said a voice, suddenly, behind Edie, who was listening to a remark made by Guest, “don’t look in that dreamy way at everyone. I’ve been watching you for ever so long. Don’t you know that this is the happiest day of Myra’s life?”
“No, aunt,” said Edie shortly; “do you?”
Miss Jerrold shrugged her shoulders.
“Go and keep near her, my dear, till they leave. I haven’t the heart. Edie, am I a wretchedly prejudiced old maid, or is there something not nice about that man?”
“Ah, there you are, Edie,” cried the admiral excitedly. “Myra is just going to cut the cake. Mr Guest, take my sister and give her some champagne. Edie, my dear, I don’t like poor Myra’s looks. I must see to the people, and have a word with James Barron before they start; and I’ve got to speak, too, and how to get through it I don’t know.”
“What do you want me to do, uncle?”