“Good-by, Mystic; you and I will have
our talk another day,” said Sue.
XXVIII.—HEARTS ALIKE.
Early in December, in a snow-storm, Sue Lake was married to John Gesner.
“Some things are incomprehensible,” declared Mrs. Wadsworth, plaintively, looking at the snow, “to think that she should marry an old beau of mine. So soon, too. How a widow can ever think—”
Tessa refused to see her married until the last moment. “You must be a good friend to me through thick and thin,” Sue coaxed, and Tessa went the evening before; but the evening was long and silent, for Tessa could not talk or admire Sue’s outfit. The pretty brown and crimson chairs were again wheeled before the back parlor grate; but when Sue went out to attend for the last time to her father’s lunch, there was no hilarious entrance, and Tessa’s tears dropped because they would not be restrained.
Sue’s talk and laughter sounded through the hall; but Tessa could hear only “Good-by, Mystic; you and I will have our talk another day.”
“Kiss me and say you are glad,” prayed Sue, when they went up to Sue’s chamber to exchange white silk and orange blossoms for travelling attire. “It’s horrid for you to look like a funeral. Mrs. Towne looks glum, and Miss Gesner had to cry!”
The snow-flakes were falling and melting, as they were falling and melting the day that Sue sang for Dr. Lake; there was a fire in the air-tight to-day, and by some chance the low rocker had been pushed close to the side of the white-draped bed. Sue seated herself in it to draw on her gloves and for a last hurried, hysteric flow of words.
“I’ll write to you from Liverpool, Tessa. I hope that we sha’n’t have any storms; I might think that it was a judgment. I don’t want to be drowned; I want to see London and Paris and Rome. Isn’t it queer for me to be married twice before you are married once!”
“You may be married three times before I am married once,” said Tessa, opening a bureau drawer to lay away an old glove box.