"It will not be long now," Mrs. Houston said cheerfully, "I sent Felix for them an hour ago, and you may be sure he will find them. I'll send you word, dear, as soon as I see them coming."
Left alone with Dicey, Natalia turned slowly back to the mirror and looked at herself a long time. The veil was still thrown back from her face, and in the soft glow of the candles, the reflection gained a vague, misty charm.
During the long silence the sound of fiddling floated up to the room. Surely he had come now! That was the reason for the music. As she listened, the music faded softly and finally stopped altogether. Still there was no sound of a carriage on the driveway. Finally she sank into a chair and looked at Dicey, who was peering intently through the shutters. Then she glanced at the clock. It was exactly eight—the marriage hour. The fiddling began again, and mingling with it, the sounds of laughter in the garden and the swishing of silks along the veranda.
She rose from the chair, walking about the room, while the clock ticked off the minutes relentlessly. In the stillness of the room her voice sounded harsh and unnatural.
"Mammy—do you see him coming?"
Dicey did not answer nor move from her position.
"Mammy—come here!"
The old slave held up her hand cautiously.
"Wait—I sees er kerridge."
Natalia laughed happily.