“They can well afford to have fine clothes for Miss Lura,” commented Mrs. Duvall. “People who know them in Springfield say that Mr. De Cormis got a fortune from France, where his grandfather came from. He needn’t preach if he don’t want to, but he likes to live in the country, and wants only a small church, so has here what suits him.”
“It would interest you to go to the church on Tuesday evening and see them married, Mrs. Duvall?”
“It certainly would, and I’ll go. A cat can look at a queen, I reckon, whether the queen looks at her or not.”
Hilda laughed, and then nodding good-morning to Mrs. Duvall, drove to the store, made her purchases and went home.
Tuesday evening came, the church was filled to overflowing, and Rev. Horace De Cormis gave his daughter to the one above all others whom he would have selected had he done the choosing.
Beautiful as was Hilda at all times, she never looked more lovely than upon that occasion, and Mrs. Duvall was not the only one whose gaze wandered to the handsome attendants, who expected to be only secondary objects of interest.
The evening reception at the parsonage was followed by that given by Mrs. Warfield, and this in turn by friends of the bride among her father’s congregation. The quiet neighborhood had never known such a festive time.
Fred was always mentioned as Hilda’s escort to these festivities and was an attentive and courtly cavalier. Hilda’s confidence in him became firmly established and confidence became esteem, which she mistook for love.
Mrs. Lura Warfield remained several weeks at the parsonage, then became one of the home circle of the Warfield farmhouse. Yet her taking up her abode in a new home did not prevent her from keeping her place as head of her father’s household. She attended to his wardrobe, visited the poor and ailing of his congregation, purchased the supplies, answered his letters, and in every way in her power kept him from realizing the loss he had sustained in her marriage and her removal to another home.
Mrs. Lura was a good, dutiful daughter, and there was scarcely a day passed that she was not engaged upon some work for him, and Hilda was glad that there was something to interest her outside the farmhouse. Sometimes by invitation she accompanied her, driving Planchette to Mrs. Lura’s phaeton, and could not help admiring the executive ability of the brilliant little woman.