She nodded. “And I mustn’t let my eyes get red.”
She kissed him shyly on the cheek. They had never indulged much in kisses. He felt if she had always been as sweetly feminine, he should have been sorry to have her marry.
He did not see her again until she was in her wedding gown, composed and smiling.
“Has Del called you up?” he asked her.
“No, why should he?”
He laughed. “Oh, well, you’ll have plenty to say to each other afterward.” But the thought intruded that with such a bride a man might show himself, on this day of days, ardent and eager.
Rosalind and Helen and Margaret, shimmering, opalescent, their young eyes radiant under their wide hats, joined the other bridesmaids in the great limousine which was to take them to the church. Cousin Annabel went with other cousins. Edith and her uncle were alone in their car. Frederick’s man, Briggs, who had been the family coachman in the days of horses, drove them.
Washington was shining under the winter sun as they whirled through the streets to the old church. “Happy is the bride the sun shines on,” said Frederick, feeling rather foolish. It was somewhat difficult to talk naturally to this smiling beauty in her bridal white. She seemed miles removed from the aggressive maiden with whom he had fought and made up and fought again.
The wedding party was assembled in one of the side rooms. Belated guests trickled in a thin stream towards the great doors that opened and shut to admit them to the main auditorium. A group of servants, laden with wraps, stood at the foot of the stairs. As soon as the procession started they would go up into the gallery to view the ceremony.
In the small room was almost overpowering fragrance. The bridesmaids, in the filtered light, were a blur of rose and blue and white. There was much laughter, the sound of the organ through the thick walls.