And so Prue and her mother came the day before, and were met by Lawrence, who was very thin, with black hollows under very brilliant eyes, and whose manner was full of spirit and gaiety.
"It is evident enough that Rodney is in love with you, my dear," said Prue's mother as she kissed her niece, "and you'll be happy ever after, of course; and that's the way things ought to be."
The marriage was to take place on the morrow. At eight o'clock on the night before, the family rose from the dinner-table. The two girls disappeared up the stairs. The mothers sat in the drawing-room over a fire of logs on the hearth, talking over, for the twentieth time, every detail of the next day. Had Caro really got everything in her trunks? Was she to have the right wraps on board ship?
Lawrence went out of the house. He lingered on the piazza. He lighted a match and looked at the barometer.
"Set fair," he said, aloud. He took off his hat and passed his hand over his forehead.
"That's good," he went on, still aloud; "I'm glad it's set fair. Caro ought to have everything fair; and I shall have fair weather, too, if I'm with her. There was never a luckier fellow in the world than I am."
He kept his hat off. He looked up at the sparkling heavens as he said, reverently:
"Pray God I may make her as happy as she deserves to be!"
He went on down the path that led towards the water, not minding much which way he was going. There was a brisk southwest wind blowing, though it was not cool; rather there was a softness in the air, which was full of the noise of insects.
All at once the young man turned with a distinct purpose towards the bay. He had thought of the Vireo, which lay moored at the wharf in the inlet.