"Nobody but Polly is going to stand by us," said Matthew, looking cautiously around to see if I was listening. "Ann doesn't believe in making much fuss over a wedding."
"I didn't know I was to be in it until Miss Bess took me to be fitted—oh, it is a dream of a dress, isn't it, Mr. Matthew?" said Polly, with her enthusiasm also tempered by a glance in my direction.
"It sure is," answered Matthew, with the greatest approval, as he regarded Polly with parental pride.
"Well, I'm glad I'm invited to see it," said Cale as he glanced at Polly tenderly. "I mean to be at the wedding, Matt," he added politely. Cale was to be best man with Polly as maid of honor at Bess's wedding, and he had been standing and sitting close at Polly's side for more than ten days.
"Let's try it all over again, everybody," called Bess's wearied voice, interrupting Polly's enthusiastic description of ruffles.
The wedding day was a nightmare. Annette and the housemaid and Bess and a girl from Madame Felicia's packed up three trunks full of my clothes and sent them all to the station.
"I wish I never had to see them again," I said viciously under my breath as the expressmen carried out the last trunk.
"Now, dear, in these two suitcases are your wedding things and your going-away gown. Your dress is in the long box and we will send them all out early in the morning in my car. Matthew will drive us out as soon as we can get ready," Bess had said the night before, as she sank on my bed and spread out with fatigue.