“Yes,” added the captain, “remember that your father wants you to have all that heart could wish for your trousseau, if—if he is handing you over to another rather against his will.”
“I trust I shall never give you cause to regret it, sir,” said Harold pleasantly. “But I must go now to my young patient,” he added, rising to his feet. “Adieu for the present, friends. I know that you can arrange remaining matters without my valuable assistance.”
With that he left the room, and the talk between the others went on.
Harold was pleased to find his young patient sleeping quietly. The improvement in his condition was steady from that time, so that in another week it was deemed altogether right and wise to begin preparations for the approaching nuptials.
Relieved from anxiety about little Ned, and supplied by the captain with abundant means, the ladies thoroughly enjoyed the necessary shopping, and daily brought home an array of beautiful things for the adornment of the bride that was to be. At the same time Max returned to his vessel, but with the promise of another short leave of absence to enable him to attend the wedding. That made it easier to part with wife and baby for the time.
Here we will leave our friends for the present, preparations for the wedding going merrily on, the lovers very happy in each other and the bright prospect before them, the captain not very discontented with the turn events had taken, and Grandma Elsie full of quiet satisfaction in the thought of Harold’s happiness, and that she herself was to have so sweet a new daughter added to her store of such treasures.
THE END.
Transcriber’s Notes:
Obvious punctuation errors repaired.