“Kendall has seen the house, he knows all about it, why isn’t that enough?” The fact was that Ray Forman, during those weeks of preparation, thought very little about that house, or any other. She had watched her father rise up from the incubus of that hateful mortgage and take hold of life and hope with fresh energy; she had received from Aunt Elsie the assurance that she had not the least desire to go away from “Joseph’s” household, but would be only too glad to belong to it as long as they would keep her; she had realized with a thankful heart that both Jean and Derrick had passed beyond the period when they needed an older sister’s constant watching care, having chosen for daily companionship One whose unerring guidance could be trusted; and now that a strange providence had offered Kendall a home suited to the needs of his mother, thus enabling them to get well started in life before heavy added expense would be necessary, she gave herself up to the joy of believing that now the time had come when she might conscientiously leave the dear old home and help make a new one; and the joy and hope of it passed away beyond and above such commonplaces as the kind of house they were to live in.
Standing out conspicuously among her causes for gratitude during those busy days was Aunt Elsie’s pledge not to go away from “mother.” So used was Ray to thinking of her aunt as a blessing and only that, especially to mother, that she had all but forgotten the days when they had looked forward with apprehension to her coming. Not so Jean, whose love of contrast was strong.
“Just think how we fussed about it!” she said, one day. “Does it seem possible that we could ever have groaned and growled so much over ‘sacrificing’ ourselves for the sake of Aunt Elsie! I mean us, Ray dear, never you, though you did the sacrificing, you blessed darling! I hope that mysterious house will have a decent room in it for your very own. Just think, you really haven’t had a room to yourself—large enough to be called a room—for a whole year.”
“I’ve never for an hour been sorry that Aunt Elsie had mine,” Ray answered, “and it wasn’t half so much of a sacrifice to give it up as you girls imagined. You don’t remember my room at 1200 Dupont Circle very well, do you, Jean? but Florence does. I loved that room, really loved it, and I resolved when I tore myself away from it never to let another room take hold of my heart as that did.”
It happened that Aunt Elsie on her way to the dining-room where the girls were at work, overheard this last sentence. With her hand on the door knob she turned suddenly and limped back to her own room in order to enjoy a gleeful laugh, as she thought of the room that was “really loved.” It was on that evening that she told Kendall Forsythe she was having “the time of her life, these days.” Also she was having a new gown for the wedding day; a pearl gray silk, with trimmings of her own old lace. Nor was the dress being made by that “poor girl” who had served her in such capacity for nearly half a century, because she would not for the world have hurt her feelings by employing any other. It is not certain that she would have done so even yet, save for the fact that the “poor girl” had gone home to her Father’s house where all her shortcomings were forever covered, and her feelings could be hurt no more.
The dress of the prospective bride was a study of beauty. It was quiet, of course, or it would not have fitted Ray, but “so soft, and clinging, and rich and fine!” These and other adjectives were tossed about by the rapturous Jean, as she witnessed the “trying on,” for family inspection. “It just matches Ray!” she declared, “I was so afraid she would have to wear some common, cheap thing! Aunt Elsie, you are a jewel; and that lace is simply ravishing! It is the very prettiest piece you have. Did you save it for Ray’s wedding dress?”
“WHO SHOULD WEAR IT BUT HER NAMESAKE?”
“It saved itself,” said the smiling aunt. “It trimmed Ray Shepard’s wedding gown a hundred years ago, and Ray Shepard was your great-grandmother’s younger sister; who should wear it but her namesake?”
Through all these absorbing interests and excitements, moved Father Time with steady feet, bringing the marriage day to its very eve. When the date for the wedding was being chosen, it was discovered that the day selected as probable came within one week of marking the year that Aunt Elsie had spent with them; whereupon Ray promptly moved forward the date for a week, thus making the event an anniversary of her coming.