And in the judgment of Herb and Arminius Wingrove, Grandmamma, in a fine new hat, was right in the foreground of the picture.
Everything was just as it should have been; everybody looked pleased and happy; and when forth the organ pealed the noble work by Mendelssohn all agreed that they made a mighty handsome pair.
There was no reception at the Hyde Park Hotel; but Mr. Hollins bade all and sundry attend a tea-party on the classic boards of Drury. Grandmamma cut the cake that Mr. Hollins had provided; and Marge and Timothy ate thereof—not a crumb more than was good for ’em, although both came very near the limit. And then Mr. Hollins made a speech which we feel obliged to quote verbatim in this place.
Said Mr. Hollins: “Ladies and Gentlemen, I sincerely hope this is not the end of a great career. (Hear, hear.) I have my doubts about it, though. I have seen this sort of thing before. (Cheers and laughter.) We all envy the Bridegroom, and I am afraid we shall find it hard to forgive him, if, as our prophetic souls have feared, he robs a great profession of a chief ornament. (Hear, hear.) But if this is a grudge we may have to cherish against him, there is a service he has rendered to us that must always redound to his credit. He is the means of summoning back to these classic boards, after an absence, she tells me, of forty-three years, one of the great figures of a bygone generation, whose name was as familiar as a household word throughout the length and breadth of the land, before even the improvident parents of the majority of those of us who are present this afternoon had arranged about our cradles. Ladies and Gentlemen, I refer to that true ornament of her profession, Mrs. Cathcart. (Loud and prolonged applause.) We are exceedingly proud to have her among us; and some of you will doubtless boast to your grandchildren that you have had the opportunity of drinking the health of this famous and venerable lady, because, after Sir Herbert has proposed the health of the Bride, it is to be my great privilege to propose that of one of the truest ornaments the English stage has known.” (Great enthusiasm.)
This was not all by any means that Mr. Hollins was moved to say on this historic occasion. But you will be able to gather, doubtless, from the general tenor of the famous Manager’s remarks, that the Bride was quite within her rights in being moved to tears, and that the Bridegroom had warrant for the otherwise irrelevant observation, “I wish the Mater had been here, old girl, that’s all.”
And then in grim earnest the bowl began to flow; enthusiasm began to wax parlous; and the wretched Bridegroom had to get up on his hind legs, feeling quite as uncertain about the knee-joints as this unfortunate quadruped of ours, and proceeded to apologize very sweetly and humbly to the profession for having robbed it of one of whom it had a right to be proud, and who was a thousand and one times too good, at a conservative estimate, for the chap who had brought her back from St. James’s, Wilton Place. And candor forces us to admit that this idle, rich young fellow, who had made a good many enemies by his act of presumption, didn’t materially add to their number by the speech which he made, which, if not exactly that of an orator, was yet manly and sincere and unaffected and no discredit to the famous Twin Brethren who had nurtured his youth.
CHAPTER XX
LOVE’S YOUNG DREAM
The first fortnight of the honeymoon was spent in Paris. They looked at pictures and saw new plays, and went racing on Sunday, and walked in the gardens of Versailles, and did a hundred other cheerful things, and were most marvelously happy. And Mary, who hardly cared a bit about such matters, bought herself a new hat.
They were tempted to go on to the Riviera, but duty prevailed and they went to Brighton on the fourteenth day. Grandmamma had gone to that famous physician on her twenty-sixth annual excursion; and Mary felt she must keep her eye upon her, for all that she was such a hale and vigorous old thing.
Grandmamma was discovered in very nice lodgings along the sea-front, in the care of a landlady, very civil and voluble, and a mistress of the art of plain cooking. Everything very pleasant and comfortable, and a sitting-room with a balcony overlooking the King’s Parade. It really seemed that the young couple might put in a fortnight very profitably here, while their chosen residence in the metropolis was being painted throughout.