For answer she came and stood within his arms, her eyes down-drooped, her face all tears and smiles, and he folded her within his strong clasp and stooping, whispered softly:
“Starr, little darling—my life—my love—my—wife!”
And then he laid his lips against hers and held her close.
Three weeks later when the roses were all aburst of bloom over the porch at Rose Cottage and June was everywhere with her richness and perfection of beauty, Starr and Michael were married on the piazza under an arch of roses; and a favored few of society’s cream motored down to Old Orchard to witness the ceremony. In spite of all her disagreeable predictions and ugly threats Aunt Frances was among them, smiling and dominating.
“Yes, so sensible of her not to make a fuss with her wedding just now, when her father is getting his strength back again. Of course she could have come to my house and been married. I begged her to—naturally she shrank from another wedding in connection with the old home you know—but her father seemed to dread coming into town and so I advised her to go ahead and be married here. Isn’t it a charming place? So rustic you know, and quite simple and artistic too in its way. Michael has done it all, planned the house and everything, of course with Starr’s help. You know it’s quite a large estate, belonged to Michael’s great grandfather once, several hundred acres, and he has used part of it for charitable purposes; has a farm school or something for poor slum people, and is really teaching them to be quite decent. I’m sure I hope they’ll be duly grateful. See those roses? Aren’t they perfectly dear?”
It was so she chattered to those in the car with her all the way down to the farm; and to see her going about among the guests and smiling and posing to Michael when he happened to come near her, you would have thought the match all of her making, and never have dreamed that it was only because Michael’s great forgiving heart had said: “Oh, forgive her and ask her down. She is your mother’s sister, you know, and you’ll be glad you did it afterwards. Never mind what she says. She can’t help her notions. It was her unfortunate upbringing, and she’s as much to be pitied as I for my slum education.”
The pretty ceremony under the roses was over, and Starr had gone upstairs to change the simple embroidered muslin for her travelling frock and motor coat, for Michael and Starr were to take their honeymoon in their own new car, a wedding gift from their father; and Endicott himself was to go to his sister’s by rail in the company of Will French, to stay during their absence and be picked up by them on their homeward route.
Michael stood among his friends on the piazza giving last directions to French who was to look after his law business also during his absence, and who was eager to tell his friend how he and Hester had planned to be married early in the fall and were to go to housekeeping in a five-roomed flat that might have been a palace from the light in Will’s eyes. Hester was talking with Lizzie who had edged near the porch with her pretty boy hiding shyly behind her, but the smile that Hester threw in Will’s direction now and then showed she well knew what was his subject of conversation.
All the little colony had been gathered in the orchard in front of the rose arch, to watch the wedding ceremony, and many of them still lingered there to see the departure of the beloved bride and groom. Aunt Frances levelled her lorgnette at them with all the airs of her departed sister, and exclaimed “Aren’t they picturesque? It’s quite like the old country to have so many servants and retainers gathered about adoring, now isn’t it!” And a young and eager debutante who was a distant cousin of Starr’s. replied:
“I think it’s perfectly peachy, Aunt Frances.”