Martha Allen's corded silk was the beginning of her troubles. But there was Julia Jones in white silk, and Amelia Riley in a beautiful silk-tissue robe with flounces to the waist, and Jane Wilkins in moiré antique (it was not absolutely genuine, perhaps, but looked just as well by candle-light), and half a dozen others, all better dressed than the bride! After all her pains and all her talk!—that was the worst of it. Agnes was quite eclipsed, and that at her own wedding!
To every one but Agnes, the evening seemed to pass off very nicely. The supper was abundant and handsome,—far too much so, Letty thought, as she remembered how her aunt would have to pinch her already spare housekeeping to pay for all these nice things.
Joseph appeared remarkably well. He was good-looking and well dressed, and had very good, though rather stiff, manners; and Letty was especially pleased with his politeness and kindness to his mother-in-law.
Mrs. Train looked tired and sad, as though she found it hard at last to give away her only child; but when any one spoke to her on the subject she expressed herself perfectly satisfied—not to say delighted—with the match.
Letty felt herself, in her plain black dress and crape collar and sleeves, almost out of place in the midst of all this gayety, and was tempted to wish she had not come, especially as she knew very few of the guests. She determined, however, not to be a damper on any one, and exerted herself to talk and be agreeable; in which she succeeded so well that a good many people asked Agnes who that pretty girl in black could be, with such pleasing manners.
Martha Allen took pains to whisper to a number of her friends that Letty was only a servant-girl at Mrs. Trescott's; but this information did not prevent her from receiving a great deal more attention and admiration than she cared for,—especially as she saw that John was looking glum and uncomfortable. Mrs. Train begged her to stay as long as possible; and she could not well refuse.
But as all things come to an end at last, so did this evening; and Letty and John set out for a quiet walk homeward through the moonlight. John was rather silent; and Letty, after two or three attempts to talk, became silent too. At last John roused himself, and asked Letty how she had enjoyed the evening.
"Not very well," said Letty. "I was glad when it was over."
"Were you?" said John. "I thought you seemed to be having a very lively time."
"Of course I felt obliged to exert myself to entertain aunt's company," said Letty. "What else could I do?"