How the lady’s eyes gleamed, while the expression of her face and the wondrous smile which wreathed her lips and showed her white, even teeth, I never shall forget. She held the bouquet in her hand, and we heard her distinctly utter the word “thanks,” as the carriage went rapidly by. Twice she looked back, the same smile on her face and the same pleased look in her eye, as Gertie kissed the tips of her fingers and threw them toward her.
“Isn’t she beautiful?” Gertie asked.
“Yes, very beautiful, I replied,” as I stood looking after her, and wondering at the opinion so different held of her at Schuyler Hill, and wondering, too, what they would think of her when they found what she was like.
Afterward I heard from one and another what they thought, and said, and did, and will narrate in
CHAPTER XXVI.
HOW THEY RECEIVED HER.
On their return from the cottage the previous night, Alice and Emma found that during their absence a telegram had come from Colonel Schuyler, who said he should be home the following day, and asked that the carriage might meet him at the station.
Miss Rossiter, of course, did not sleep a wink, and came down to breakfast looking frightfully haggard and yellow, while Julia was pale and subdued, and Emma showed traces of tears. It was almost as bad as the day of the first Mrs. Schuyler’s funeral, and only Mrs. Tiffe and Perry showed any signs of interest in the coming event.
But as the day wore on the girls brightened up, and Alice and the governess made some bouquets for the dinner table, and put one in Godfrey’s room, but none in those of the bride. Flowers were not for her, a woman of forty with a squint and a limp and glasses! So they only opened the windows of her rooms and let in the soft air of early September, and Emma cried a little as she looked across the lawn to where her mother slept, and wondered if she knew, or knowing, cared that another was in her place. And then she went to her Aunt Christine and told her it was time to dress, and asked if she was coming down. Miss Rossiter had the headache and lay upon the couch, and said she must be excused. She could not meet the woman that night; she must wait till morning, when she hoped to be stronger and better able to bear it. So Emma dropped the shades and brought the camphor to her aunt and smoothed her hair a moment, and almost wished she, too, had the headache, and then went to Alice and Julia, who were dressing, and who gave her a meaning look as she entered.
“What, black this warm day?” Emma exclaimed, as she saw Julia had chosen a plain black grenadine, which, with the simple white band about her neck, gave her the look of one in mourning.