Everet winced under these last words, but deemed it wiser to keep his sneers and slurs to himself.
“I suppose it—the wedding—will be a very grand affair?” he remarked.
“Very; there are to be six bridesmaids, of whom I am to be the chief,” responded Miss Addie, with animation. “They will be married in Plymouth Church.”
“In church!” interposed Everet, with an eager look. “Will it be in the evening?”
“Yes, in the early evening—at five o’clock—and they will receive from six until eight. Mr. Huntress has spared no expense to make it a very brilliant affair. But I am surprised—I supposed, having been a classmate, you would have received cards for the wedding, Mr. Mapleson,” Miss Loring concluded.
“No, I have not been honored. Will the happy couple settle in New York?”
“Really, Mr. Mapleson, you are behind the times,” laughed his companion. “No, indeed, they sail the next day, at twelve, for Europe, to be gone for six months. Will not that be delightful? If the course of true love never ran smoothly before, it has done so in this case, for there has been nothing to mar it from the beginning.”
Everet Mapleson’s eyes gleamed strangely at this, and a spot of bright color leaped into his cheeks.
“On what steamer do they sail?” he inquired.
“On the Scythia, from Boston, owing to some business connected with that city. That is why the marriage and reception are set so early; they leave New York on an evening train, and will arrive in Boston early the next morning. Oh!” concluded the young lady, with a sigh, “I shall miss Gladys more than I can tell you.”