"Did they? Then it's a pity 'every one' must be disappointed, for I am not going to marry Captain Cavendish."
Laura sat silent after this quencher. She was seated on a low stool at her friend's feet, with her brown head lying on her lap. The heiress bent down and kissed the pretty face.
"My poor, silly, inquisitive little Laura!" she said, "you would like a wedding, I know. You have a feminine love of bridal-vails and orange-wreaths, and you would like to look pretty in white silk and Honiton lace, as my bridemaid—wouldn't you, now?"
"Yes," said Miss Blair.
"Well, then, Laura, you shall!"
Laura started up, and stared.
"What?"
"I say," repeated Olive, quietly, "you shall be gratified. You shall wear the white silk and the Honiton lace, my dear, and be first bridemaid, for I am going to be married!"
Laura Blair clasped her hands.
"Oh, Olly! and to Mr. Wyndham?"