In order not to slight anyone, an elaborate reception had been arranged to take place there after the performance of the ceremony. The reception began shortly after the bridal pair reached the house, yet it was past five o'clock when the numerous guests had departed with the exception of a few of Grace's close friends, who stayed to see herself and Tom depart on their honeymoon.
"At last the mystery of 'Where lies honeymoon land?' is about to be solved," proclaimed Hippy, in a loud, jubilant voice. Occupying the center of the spacious flower-decked living-room he beamed benevolently on the company of young folks who had tarried at the Harlowes' to learn that very thing. Gathered there were six of the Eight Originals, Miriam, Everett Southard and Miss Southard, the Savellis and Miss Nevin, Mrs. Gray, Mrs. Nesbit, old Jean, Kathleen West and Patience Eliot, Mabel Ashe, Laura Atkins and the Semper Fidelis girls. Despite the goodly size of the room it was a trifle more than well-filled by those who waited till Grace and Tom should reappear to say good-bye before starting on their trip. The latter had briefly absented himself to go on a mysterious errand to his aunt's home, which they guessed had something to do with the secret.
They had been waiting together perhaps twenty minutes, when Hippy launched his loud, cheerful remark, for which he was laughingly taken to task by Nora.
"Why should I not announce that the momentous time is at hand?" he demanded in a purposely grieved voice. "I am merely voicing the sentiments of the multitude. Look at their eager, wistful faces and dare to say I am not right."
"For once I'll stand by you," conceded Reddy graciously. "I never expected to do it, but the unexpected sometimes happens." He sidled nearer to Hippy as he spoke.
"Is that a threat?" flung back Hippy, taking several cautious steps away from the approaching Reddy.
"It depends——" began Reddy.
He did not finish his speech. The sound of approaching feet on the stairs turned the eyes of every one toward the wide doorway. A ripple of fond surprise circled the room, as Grace descended the last step to be met by Tom Gray. Into the room, hand in hand, stepped two veritable foresters. In his suit of brown corduroy, with his high-laced tan boots, Tom looked as though he were about to start on one of the long hikes in which he so delighted. Attired in a trim suit of hunter's green that reached a trifle below a pair of high-laced boots, the counterpart of Tom's, except that they were small and dainty, a hat of soft green velour upon her golden brown hair, Grace was a true forest maid.
An instant and they were surrounded by an eager, buzzing throng. Their very appearance told its own story. Knowing them so well, those present understood the meaning of their unusual attire. For half an hour the two lingered among these friends who were so loth to part with them. Then the grandfather's clock in the hall sent out its ringing chime of six o'clock. Tom and Grace exchanged affectionate glances. "It is time to say good-bye." Grace's clear voice wavered a little on the last word. "But when the last good-bye has been said, won't you please all of you see us as far as the gate?"
A unanimous assent went up from every throat as their dear ones hemmed in the two foresters to offer them heartfelt good wishes and exchange final good-byes. Heading a smiling procession to the gate, Tom and Grace paused to say a last word of farewell to Mrs. Gray and Mr. and Mrs. Harlowe, who had followed directly behind them. Grace's final caress was reserved for her mother. For an instant the two clung fondly to each other, then, accepting Tom's hand, Grace Harlowe passed through the gateway of her first home to begin her pilgrimage to a second that awaited her beyond Upton Wood.