"Oh, Mama! Mama! Mama!"
"Go instantly, Bessie. Deleah, take her downstairs—"
The bridegroom, dressed for the character in blue frock-coat, lavender trousers, with gloves and tie to match, and a flower in his buttonhole, was in waiting to help his bride to alight. He, who had never struck her as looking so before, suddenly appeared quite old to Deleah, in spite of his careful array, and the whiskers which had been oiled and curled. Bessie with the forget-me-nots surrounding her plump, fair-skinned face, looked almost a child in comparison.
"Late!" he said, smiling upon the ladies. "But better late than never, eh,
Sister Deleah?"
"That depends on how you look at these things," said Deleah, for the first time in her life feeling the desire to be unpleasant.
"We sprang a surprise on you, eh?"
"We were not at all surprised, Mr. Boult."
"It will have to be 'George' now, won't it? We can't have Sister Deleah
'Mr. Boult-ing' me. Eh, Bess?"
"You may call him 'George,' Deda," said a magnanimous Bessie.
"Thank you," said Deleah, in the tone of one who is not at all grateful. She followed the happy pair to the platform. Both were too smartly dressed for ordinary travellers, and people, guessing them to be bride and bridegroom, looked at them with interest.