Miss Heath broke into a merry laugh, which was echoed by another laugh, as Mr. Douane—who had been lingering outside the door—suddenly appeared on the threshold.
“Old Mr. Oliver; that is a good guess!” he cried, merrily. “Why, he has had three wives already, I believe. Come now, Gretel, can’t you think who the happy man is?”
Gretel gazed from one happy face to the other in growing bewilderment, but before she could speak, Mr. Douane himself settled the question in her mind by putting his arm round Miss Heath, and kissing her.
“I do believe I’m the happiest girl in the whole world,” sobbed Gretel. “I don’t know what makes me cry when I’m so glad, but I can’t help it. I thought it was beautiful enough to have a brother, but to have a sister too—oh, Miss Heath, dear, I’m going to try so very hard to be good enough to deserve you.”
CHAPTER XII
GOING TO A WEDDING
“I WISH when people have weddings, they’d have them in the afternoon, instead of in the morning,” observed Geraldine, in a rather complaining tone, as she carefully smoothed out the folds in her white dress before taking her favorite seat on the piazza railing. “We have to wear our good clothes in the afternoon, anyway, but it’s simply awful to be dressed up like this at ten o’clock in the morning.”
Jerry said nothing, but gazed mournfully at his immaculate white suit, and freshly blackened boots, and sighed. It was the first of May, as perfect a spring day as had ever dawned, and it was also Barbara Heath’s wedding day. The twins were occupying the cottage piazza in solitary state, while up-stairs Mrs. Barlow, Gretel, and Higgins, were all engaged in dressing the bride.
“It wouldn’t be quite so bad if it were going to be a big wedding, like people have in New York,” Geraldine went on. “Then we could look at the presents, and perhaps I could be a flower girl, and you could hold up the bride’s train, like Bobby Campbell did when his aunt got married, but Miss Heath isn’t going to have any train, and there won’t be any people in the church but just us, and her uncle from Chicago.”
“There isn’t even to be any wedding cake,” objected Jerry, disgustedly. “I thought of course there would be cake, and we could each have a box to ourselves.”
“I know why they’re not having any cake, or flower girls, or trains,” said Geraldine. “Miss Heath said she wanted to have a very simple wedding. I suppose she didn’t want to have Father and Mother pay for things, but I should think Mr. Douane might have paid; he’s awfully rich.”