“What on earth do you set out to marry Dr. Delano for, I should like to know,” said Leila, concealing her crossness with difficulty.
“Because I love him, you goosey! but it don’t follow, therefore, that I like to make a guy of myself.”
“A guy! oh! oh!” exclaimed the much-tried sisters. “You never began to look anything like half so sweet before.” Mrs. Forest stood in mute bewilderment, and Clara began to relent.
“There,” she said. “It’s all over. I am sensible now, mamma—a perfect stoic. There’s papa coming!” and opening the door herself, she threw herself into his arms, and sobbed a little, though laughing at the same time. “Oh, I can’t enjoy crying one bit, papa. I’m thinking all the time of my orange-blossoms. Look, papa, and see if you haven’t crushed one of the things.”
“Well, I never saw anybody behave so!” exclaimed Leila, in disgust. “If I ever get married——”
“Your conduct will be perfectly exemplary,” interrupted the doctor, and then giving all his attention to Clara, he said, tenderly: “My poor darling! They would have it so. They don’t understand papa’s girl. Her poetry is inside, and this paraphernalia don’t fitly express it.”
“Now, doctor, you should not encourage Clara’s strange notions. There’s a carriage. I must go. Do calm the child. She is not fit to be seen.”
“That’s just true, mamma. It’s exactly what I feel.”
“All this nonsense, besides being in bad taste, is against common sense,” the doctor said, not noticing his wife’s flurry. “Marriage festivals should take place after marriage, if at all, when the union has proved a success, and there is something to rejoice over. This is like celebrating the purchase of a lottery-ticket.” Mrs. Forest left in despair. The twins bore the “coddling,” as they called the father’s tender manifestations to his favorite child, as long as they could, and then they begged him to go, as they had “only a half hour to dress”; by which they meant but a very small part of the operation, being bathed, and coiffed, and dressed already, except for the robes and veils.
“Well, go on with your dressing,” the doctor said, provokingly. “I don’t mind girls’ dressing, or undressing, for that matter. On the whole, I rather like this flummery, and I think I won’t go without a consideration.”