“It’s time we were moving on, Travelers tried and true,” Marjorie presently said after the hub-bub of buoyant talk and laughter had died out. “I should like to have at least one dance with the groom before these two,” she smilingly indicated Danny and Jerry, “have run away from us; provided he should ask me for a dance,” she added innocently.
“Will you please trot a trot with me, Mrs. Macy?” Danny grinningly rose to the occasion.
“I will; I’d love to,” Marjorie came back with equal promptness. She knew Danny was feeling far more pleasantly embarrassed than appeared on the surface at Leslie’s good will offer.
“If you were a bride in old Ireland you would have to dance with every man who came to your wedding,” was Leila’s cheering remark to Jerry as the library party started for the ball room.
“Good night! I certainly have something to be thankful for,” was Jerry’s emphatic opinion.
Up the familiar two flights of stairs to the ball room, a climb now doubly endeared by memory to the Sanford contingent of the light-hearted group, an evening of further jollity awaited them.
Dancing had already begun, and a fox trot was in full swing when they entered the ball room, soon to be whirled into the ever favorite amusement of the dance. Jerry and Danny had a dance together, then did not meet again until over an hour later when they led the merry van downstairs to partake of the wedding supper which would be served in the mammoth tent on the lawn.
The bridal table was a thing of beauty in the way of decorative art, and at the many smaller tables roses formed the center decoration with a rose at each place. There were favors for the feminine fair of satin-covered, rose-topped powder boxes in delicate evening shades, and for the men there were cunning Japanese rose jars filled with delightful rose pot-pourri.
The bridal table seated the bride and groom, Mr. and Mrs. Macy, Mr. and Mrs. Seabrooke and the groomsman, Robert Seabrooke, Mr. and Mrs. Dean, Hal and Marjorie, Miss Susanna Hamilton, Irma, Susan and Constance together with their husbands, the six bridesmaids, the maid of honor, and last, but not least, Delia. Jerry had ranked Delia as among her “best pals,” declaring that Delia was too thoroughly a part of the Dean menage to be separated from it at the wedding supper.
It was close to midnight when the last toast to the bride and groom had been drunk down and the big tent had emptied itself of its merry assemblage, the majority of elder guests to take their leave and the younger set to return to the ball room for another hour of dancing.