“Oh!” answered Carroll, but he did not smile. “No,” he said, “my feelings were not hurt.” He looked at the small man who was the butt of the town, and his expression was almost caressing.
Flynn continued to beat away at the lather, and the rainbow bubbles curled over the edge of the bowl. “You said that you would devise me when the time had come for me to invest that money,” he said, diffidently, and yet with a noble air of confidence and loyalty.
“It hasn't come yet,” Carroll replied.
Chapter XIX
As Ina Carroll's wedding-day drew nearer, the excitement in Banbridge increased. It was known that the services of a New York caterer had been engaged. Blumenfeldt was decorating the church, Samson Rawdy was furbishing up all his vehicles and had hired supplementary ones from New Sanderson.
“No girl has ever went from this town as that Carroll girl will,” he told his wife, who assisted him to clean the carriage cushions.
“I s'pose the folks will dress a good deal,” said she, brushing assiduously.
“You bet,” said her husband.
“Well, they won't get no dirt on their fine duds off your carriage-seats,” said she. She was large and perspiring, but full of the content of righteous zeal. She and Samson Rawdy thoroughly enjoyed the occasion, and he was, moreover, quite free from any money anxiety regarding it. At first he had been considerably exercised. He had come home and conferred with his wife, who was the business balance-wheel of the family.
“Carroll has been speakin' to me about providin' carriages for his daughter's weddin', an' I dunno about it,” said he.