“Can you tell her that?”
“Ask her and she will tell you.”
“Tessa, it has been a weary time.”
“I think that there must always be a weary time before two people understand each other; I am so glad to have ours come before—”
The sun set behind clouds on Sue’s second wedding day. Tessa tried to write, she tried to read, she tried to sew, she tried to talk to her mother and Dine; but failed in every thing but sitting idle at one of the parlor windows and looking out at the snow. There was a long evening in the shabby parlor; quiet talk, laughing talk, and merry talk mingled with half sentences, as many things both old and new were talked about.
There were several happenings after this; one of them, of course, was Dinah’s marriage to her wonderful John; Tessa’s wedding gift to her was a deed of the house in which they had both been born. Another happening, perhaps, as much in the nature of things as Dinah’s marriage, although the girls could not bring themselves to think so, was their mother’s marriage to Mr. Lewis Gesner. Tessa remembered her promise to her father; she spoke no word against it, and by repeated chidings kept Dinah’s words and behavior within the limits of deference.
Pretty little Mrs. Wadsworth was a radiant bride, and the bridegroom was all that could be desired; Mrs. Wadsworth prudently concealed her elation at having married a man richer than Tessa’s husband and with a residence far handsomer. Mr. Lewis Gesner became the kindest of husbands and Miss Gesner was a model sister-in-law.
On her own wedding day, one of Tessa’s grateful thoughts was that her father would rejoice to know that his “three girls” were in happy homes. Miss Jewett’s congratulation was a dower in itself: “Your fate was worth waiting for, Tessa.”
“Another poor man undone through you, Lady Blue,” said Mr. Hammerton. “I might have known that you were growing up to do it.”
“Is Tessa married?” Felix asked in his slow way. “I hope that he will take good care of her.”