"Perhaps if I had heard the story sooner my broken bridge would have been mended long ago," said Mrs. Richards.
"It is wonderful," Mrs. Gray took courage to say, "how things turn out sometimes. I feel like telling everybody how sweet and kind my new daughter is. She really seems fond of me already, and I was so dreadful afraid of her."
"When we look back we can't help seeing that we have been guided by a higher Power, who could see the path that was dark to us," Mrs. Morrison said softly; and the Spectacle Man added, "That's true."
"Every one knows how much I owe to the story," Mr. Carter began, but Lillian blushed and shook her head at him.
"I am too commonplace to have interesting experiences," Miss Moore announced, "so, as I haven't anything to relate, with Mr. Clark's permission I'll read a poem;" and thereupon she read the verses she had found in the hall.
The Spectacle Man was quite embarrassed, and insisted that he was not in the habit of dropping into verse, and that this had not been intended for the public.
"I want them, Mr. Clark, for the book I mean to write when I have time, about our winter at your house," Miss Sherwin said.
"Are you really going to do that, Miss Sherwin? How lovely!" cried Frances. "And you must begin with Mrs. Gray's glasses, and put Emma and Gladys and me in,—and Peterkin."
Lillian laughed, and promised that when the story was written they should all be in.
The next morning was as beautiful as if it had been ordered for the occasion, and the small number of persons gathered in the church saw a charming bride, who seemed with her golden hair and her shimmering gown of soft green tones, to be herself a part of the springtime.