All this had caused quite an excitement and a great buzz of talk among the comparatively stranger guests; yet they seemed to enjoy the dainty fare provided and ate heartily of it as they talked, listening, too, for a renewal of the efforts of the ventriloquists.
But the latter refrained from any further exercise of their skill, as the time was drawing near when the bride and groom were to set out upon their bridal trip. They and their principal attendants repaired to the house, where the bride exchanged her wedding gown for a very pretty and becoming travelling dress, her bridesmaids and intimate girl friends assisting her. Her toilet finished, they all ran down into the lower hall—already almost crowded with other guests—and, laughing and excited, stood awaiting her appearance at the head of the stairway. She was there in a moment—her bouquet of orange blossoms in her hand.
The hands of the laughing young girls were instantly extended toward her and she threw the bouquet, saying merrily:
"Catch it who can, and you will be the first to follow me into wedded happiness."
It so happened that Evelyn Leland and Lucilla Raymond stood so near together that their hands almost touched and that the bouquet fell to both—each catching it with one hand. Their success was hailed by a peal of laughter from all present, Chester Dinsmore and Max Raymond particularly seeming to enjoy the sport.
The bride came tripping down the stairway, closely followed by her groom, and the adieus began; not especially sad ones, as so many of the near and dear relatives left behind expected to see them again ere many weeks should pass—and quite a goodly number followed them down to the edge of the bayou, where lay the boat that was to carry them over the first part of their wedding journey. They stepped aboard amid showers of rice, accompanied by an old shoe or two, merry laughter, and many good wishes for a happy and prosperous trip; and as they seated themselves, a beautiful horseshoe formed of lovely orange blossoms fell into the bride's lap.
The little vessel was bountifully adorned with flags of various sizes—by the previous arrangement of Dr. Percival, who knew them both to be devoted admirers of the flag of our Union—and as the vessel moved away there came again from among the trees at a little distance, the sound of a bugle, the drum and the fife playing the "Star-Spangled Banner," than which nothing could have been more appropriate.
As the boat disappeared and the music died away something of a lonely feeling came over many of those left behind, and the guests not related began to make their adieus and depart to their homes. But the relatives tarried somewhat longer, chatting familiarly among themselves and re-examining the many handsome bridal gifts.
"They have fared well," said Mrs. Betty Norton, Dr. Robert's sister, "I am so glad for them both. I'm fond of my brother Bob, and well pleased with the match he has made. And not less so with Dick's," she added, turning with a smile to Maud, who stood at her side.
"Thank you, Betty," said Maud. "I was well pleased with the relationship we held to each other before, and am glad it has been made nearer. Though at first—when Dick proposed—I was afraid it—the relationship—ought to be a bar to our union. However, he said it was not near enough for that, and as he is a good physician I supposed he knew—so did not say him nay," she added, with a laughing look up into her husband's face as at that moment he drew near and stood at her side.