"Sometimes I think," said Angie, "we please God by giving up, for love's sake, little things we would like to do in his service, more than by worship."
"Well, dear, that principle has a long reach. We will talk more about it by and by; but now, good-night!—or your mother will be scolding you again for sitting up late. Somehow, the time does slip away so when we get to talking."
[CHAPTER LIV.]
MARRIED AND A'.
Well, the day of days came at last, and a fairer May morning never brightened the spire of old Trinity or woke the sparrows of the park. Even the dingy back garden of the Vanderheyden house had bubbled out in golden crocus and one or two struggling hyacinths, and the old lilacs by the chamber windows were putting forth their first dusky, sweet-scented buds. In about half a dozen houses, everybody was up early, with heads full of wedding dresses, and wedding fusses, and wedding cake. Aunt Maria, like a sergeant of police, was on hand, as wide awake and as fully possessed of the case as it was possible for mortal woman to be. She was everywhere,—seeing to everything, reproving, rebuking, exhorting, and pushing matters into line generally.
This was her hour of glory, and she was mistress of the situation. Mrs. Van Arsdel was sweet and loving, bewildered and tearful; and wandered hither and thither doing little bits of things and remorselessly snubbed by her energetic sister, who, after pushing her out of the way several times, finally issued the order: "Nellie, I do wish you'd go to your room and keep quiet. I understand what I want, and you don't."
The two brides, each in their respective dressing-rooms, were receiving those attentions which belong to the central figures of the tableau.
Marie, the only remaining unmarried sister, who had been spending the winter in Philadelphia, had charge, as dressing-maid, of one bride, and Eva of the other. There was the usual amount of catastrophes—laces that broke in critical moments, when somebody had to be sent tearing out distractedly for another; gloves that split across the back on trying; coiffures that came abominably late, after keeping everybody waiting, and then had to be pulled to pieces and made all over; in short, no one item of the delightful jumble of confusions, incident to a wedding, was missing.