“Tum, diddydum—Diddydum—diddydum—Diddydum—diddydum— Diddydum—dum—dum—Dum—Dum—Dum!” began the organ and Billy flung the portals wide and stood aside on the steps to let the throng pass in, his eyes shining as if they would say, “Aw Gee! Ain't this great?”
And just at that moment, wallowing through the snow, with the air of having come from the North Pole there arrived a great car and drew up to the door, and Laurie Shafton jumped anxiously out and flung open the door for his passengers.
“Aw Gee! That Fish! Whadde wantta come here for? The great chump! Don't he know he ain't in it?”
Billy watched in lofty scorn from his high step and decided to hurry in and not have to show any honors to that sissy-guy.
Then out from the car issued Opal, done in furs from brow to shoe and looking eagerly about her, and following her a big handsome sporty man almost twice her age, looking curiously interested, as if he had come to a shrine to worship, Opal's husband. Billy stared, and then remembering that the wedding march was almost over and that he might be missing something:
“Aw, Gee! Whadduw I care? He ain't little apples now, anyhow. He couldn'ta bought her with barrels of roses, an' he knows it too, the poor stiff. He must be a pretty good scout after all, takin' his medicine straight!”
Then Billy slid in and the quiet little ceremony began.
The organ hushed into nothing. Marilyn arose, took Mark's arm, and together they stepped down and stood in front of the minister, who had come down the steps of the pulpit and was awaiting them, with Marilyn's mother sitting only a step away on the front seat.
It was all so quiet and homey, without fuss or marching or any such thing, and when the ceremony was over the bride and groom turned about in front of the bank of hemlock and roses and their friends swarmed up to congratulate them. Then everybody went into the parsonage, where the ladies of the church had prepared a real country wedding breakfast with Christmas turkey and fixings for a foundation and going on from that. It wasn't every day in the year that Sabbath Valley got its minister's daughter married, and what if the parsonage was small and only fifty could sit down at once, everybody was patient, and it was all the more fun!
The three guests from out of town, self imposed, looked on with wonder and interest. It was a revelation. Marilyn looked up and found big Ed Verrons frankly staring at her, a puzzled pleased expression on his large coarse face. She was half annoyed and wondered why they had come to spoil this perfect day. Then suddenly the big man stepped across the little living room and spoke: