“Say your own time then; only pray be reasonable, Bertha. I am fearful for myself, I own, but I am doubly fearful for you. Every time I see you I fear it may be the last.”
“I suppose I must give in; you men are so impatient! Let us say this day month. That is the very, very earliest.”
“A month, Bertha! Why not say twelve at once?”
“I will say twelve if you like. That would be much better, only I thought you were in such a hurry.”
“I should like to swear to myself for a few minutes, Bertha, if you would kindly walk on a little way ahead.”
“What you can see to be so cross about I can’t make out. You have everything your own way. You ask me to marry you in twelve months, and I agree to it. What more can you want?”
“You are trying to take a rise out of me—I can see clear enough. But be a little reasonable, Bertha. Say three days, four days—in fact, say just how long it takes these blessed bridesmaids to get themselves groomed and in proper training for the job!”
“Now you are more reasonable, Alec. We might—mind, I am not sure—we might get ready in a fortnight.”
With this promise Alec had to be satisfied, or make the best of it. He had succeeded in knocking fifty per cent. off the first estimate, and was correspondingly elated. Perhaps he would not have been quite so pleased with himself had he known that for more than a week past Bertha’s bridal dress had been completed, that the bridesmaids were long ago chosen, and their arrangements made; that even the church and officiating minister had been selected, and, as a matter of fact, the marriage could have been solemnized with all those rights dear to the heart of womankind two days from date.
Alec did not know this, and he was contented.