Jack had hardly succeeded in the difficult task of restoring his watch to the tight vest, and was sitting back at peace with all mankind, when he heard Mr. Dean saying something so dreadful that he could not credit his own ears. He looked up; Mr. Dean's eyes had a twinkle in them that Jack had learned meant mischief, and he certainly was saying:
"Mr. John Hildreth, my best man, will make a few remarks on this happy occasion."
Jack sank back farther, looking painfully red and frightened, but Trix poked him energetically.
"Get up, Jack; he wants you to make a speech," she whispered. "You've got to do it. Pooh! what do you care; you know most of the people here."
Jack arose; his very ears were crimson, and his voice trembled.
"Ladies and gentlemen," poor Jack began.
"Hear! hear!" cried one of the guests, in what was meant for encouragement, but had the opposite effect.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Jack said again, "I didn't know best men had to make speeches. I never made a speech."
Here the poor child stuck fast, and Mrs. Dean whispered to her husband to be merciful and tease him no more, while Trix in a stage whisper said, "Go on, say something about the weather, the breakfast, and Miss Isabel, or Mr. Dean, or anything."