Of course the wedding presents were not going to South America, but were to be stored against the young people's return. "Don't you hate to go away and leave all these lovely things, Graham?" Peggy asked, stroking the gleaming sides of a copper bowl as if it had been a kitten. And then with her usual happy faculty for seeing the bright side, she added, "But think of coming home and finding them waiting for us! Why, it'll be like getting married all over again."
Wedding presents, however, were not to occupy Peggy's thoughts to the exclusion of other matters. All sorts of affectionate messages kept coming, special deliveries, telegrams, telephone calls. A girl like Peggy, who for twenty-one years and over has been helping to make the world a happier place, is likely to be surprised when she comes to count up her friends. Elaine Marshall, who had moved from the city and now lived with her married sister, came down for the day. "I couldn't stand it, not to be at your wedding, Peggy," she declared. And Lucy Haines walked in about noon, looking so radiant that Peggy at once suspected an especial reason. There was a little pearl ring on the third finger of Lucy's left hand that Peggy had never seen before. Lucy blushed when she saw Peggy's contemplative gaze focused on it.
"Yes, Peggy, it's—it's Jerry," owned Lucy, looking so proud and happy that she did not seem even distantly related to the disheartened girl who had once thought it was no use trying. "He's grown into such a splendid fellow. Everybody says I'm so lucky. And, Peggy, if it hadn't been for the summer you spent at Doolittle Cottage, it's not likely that either of us would ever have amounted to anything."
Mary Donaldson called up to say that she was coming to the wedding. Her father and cousin had promised to carry her downstairs, and they were going early so she could be in her place before any one else arrived. "I don't believe you're a bit more excited than I am, Peggy," Mary laughed. And another surprise was when Uncle Philander and his wife drove into town, with a bushel or two of flowers piled about them in the buggy.
"They're not such awful stylish flowers," beamed Aunt Phoebe. "Of course there's a few roses, but most of our bushes bloomed themselves 'most to death in June and haven't done much since. The rest are just everyday posies, so to speak, but they'll make little bright spots around the house, and anyway, you can't have too many flowers at a wedding."
At four o'clock the bridesmaids went home to dress. The mother of the flower girl pounced on her and carried her upstairs.
"Peggy, dear," said Mrs. Raymond warningly.
"Just a minute mother. I want to tell Graham something." Peggy led her lover into a corner and whispered in his ear, "Don't you want to come back and get a glimpse of me after I'm dressed."
"Well rather."
"Because you know, if you don't like me," dimpled Peggy, "it's not too late to change your mind." She was inclined to be reproachful when Graham caught her in his arms and kissed her before everybody, but Graham insisted it was her own fault, and on reflection Peggy decided he was right.