And then, when the girl stood arrayed in the gown, Phyllis exclaimed, “Nan, that surely was made for your wedding dress.”
“But, Phyllis, you are forgetting Robert’s request.”
“No, I am not,” the other maid laughingly replied. Then for a moment she looked about the room thoughtfully. Spying the gorgeous scarlet and gold shawl, which in the long ago Manna Lou had given the girl, she took it and threw one fringed corner over Nan’s left shoulder, fastening it in front at the belt. Then, winding it about her waist, another point hung panelwise to the bottom of her skirt. The spangled yellow silk handkerchief was twined about the dark hair, and the picture reflected in the mirror was truly a beautiful one.
“Tres charmante!” Phyllis exclaimed jubilantly. “Now, let me see, there should be something old and something new, something borrowed and something blue. The dress is new, to us anyway; that gorgeous shawl is old. I’ll loan you a handkerchief with a yellow and crimson border, and now, what shall you wear that is blue?”
Miss Dahlia slipped from the room to return a moment later with a velvet box which she handed to the girl she so loved. “My mother gave it to me when I was eighteen,” the little lady said, “and I want to give it to my Nan on her wedding day.”
The dark head and the fair bent eagerly over the box and when the cover was removed, the two girls uttered exclamations of joy.
“Oh, how lovely, lovely!” Phyllis cried as she lifted a sapphire necklace and clasped it about the throat of the happy Nan.
A busy morning was spent by the two girls, and, as it neared noon, Nan resplendently arrayed, looked up at Phyllis as she said, “I wonder where Aunt Dahlia is. She hasn’t been here for half an hour past. Perhaps she is in her room. Wait dear, and I will see.”
Miss Barrington’s door was closed. Nan, after tapping, softly opened it. Miss Dahlia, with folded hands, was seated by the wide window gazing out at the sea and in her sweet grey eyes there was such a wistful loneliness. She looked up, as the girl entered, and smiled faintly, then her lips quivered and the tears came.
“Oh, Aunt Dahlia, darling! How selfish I have been!” Nan cried, as heedless of her white silk dress, she knelt by the little woman and put her arms lovingly about her. “I never thought! Perhaps you didn’t want me to get married. But it isn’t too late, Aunt Dahlia, if you do not wish it.”