After luncheon Mr. Claybourne took over Mr. Ebling, and Knowlton carried me away to deposit our check at the bank. It was part of the agreement that Knowlton and I should work beside the new management for a month, until things ran smoothly.
"Don't play any more kid tricks on Ebling, Ted," Knowlton warned me as we parted at the bank. "You've done enough for today."
The great day was approaching; sometimes it seemed with great rapidity, and again I thought the end of the month would never come. The trousseau, with all kinds of shopping and trying things on, took up a great deal of Helen's time, and Mrs. Claybourne banished me for days on end. I did a lot of work in the laboratory, with the new chemist, to keep occupied, but I found it hard to take work seriously.
One morning Mrs. Claybourne informed me that she had made an appointment for me at eleven to call upon the minister who was to marry us. I had no chance to find out from Helen what this meant, but was bundled off to keep the engagement.
I entered his study with decidedly mixed feelings. It was reminiscent of going to the dentist's. He was a tall, sandy-haired elderly young man, with a fine but slightly stagey face. "Could play jeune premiers just as he stands," I thought, as he shook my hand and seated me in a deep leathern armchair.
"So you and Helen are to be married," he began, offering me a cigarette. It did not put me at my ease. The only suitable reply I could think of was "Yes—on the thirtieth." I lit the cigarette, hoping inspiration from it later.
"It is a solemn step you are taking," he continued. "Are you sure you have thoroughly searched your hearts?"
"If you mean, do we love each other, I think there is no doubt of it," I answered, the bristles on my back rising a trifle.
"Did you know I went to your college?" he asked, shifting the attack.