The next day was the wedding and you may be sure Rollo was up betimes, after a refreshing sleep of ten minutes. He dressed himself with particular care, his heart pounding with excitement, for to-day he was to see Anabelle, who had arrived from her seminary the evening before!
All the family were early astir, and there was much scrubbing and inspection of finger nails and ears, and rustling of starchy garments, and at promptly half after eleven, the entire family set forth, except Jonas, who had gone before in his squeakiest shoes, for he was to guard the wedding gifts lest some of the guests should steal them.
The apartment was large but the company was larger and, as many had already arrived, Rollo soon found himself in a dense crowd in which he could catch no glimpse of Anabelle, but had only a view of the elbows and waist-lines which were on a level with his eyes. Just as he was feeling quite faint and stunned from bumping his head against the gentlemen’s hip-pockets, he was rescued by Mr. Stewart and dragged into a room where the ushers were forming the nuptial procession.
“—What a happy ending it is”
Suddenly, from a veritable forest of rubber-plants, the strains of Mendelssohn’s Wedding March smote the air, the hum of conversation died down and the lovely bride, preceded by Anabelle, and accompanied by her aged father in a wheel-chair, moved majestically down an aisle which Jonas had cleared. Rollo was propelled forward into his place, and, blushing furiously, marched by Anabelle’s side until they reached the arch of smilax and roses beneath which stood Dr. Ordway, the minister.
It was a beautiful sight, the bride in a lovely lavender dress, the dignified old father and the ushers, their red faces contrasting handsomely with their white carnations and gray cravats.
But all this was a dream to Rollo, who had eyes only for Anabelle, bewitchingly fairy-like with her pale-blue dress and basket of flowers. It made Rollo’s head swim to look at her and as the words of the ceremony came to him indistinctly a vague resolve formed itself in his mind. At the words “And with all my worldly goods,” he thought of his own possessions and wondered what Anabelle would think of his knife and of the decorated clam-shell which his Uncle had brought him from Atlantic City.
“It is not much,” thought Rollo, “but one cannot give more than all, and oh! how beautiful she is——!”