"By-the-bye, there was something I meant to ask when I saw you—I have such a lot to think about that—I know what it was. Your unmarried aunt whom we met at Aldeburgh. Keeping well, I hope?"
Langford was able to give re-assuring information.
Mrs. Winterton came up to the meal, bringing her present of more lace, and the rest of us exhibited our purchases. The gifts were all of a simple nature, but the young couple showed rapture over each article; Katherine reproached me with forgetting that the baby grand in the corner had always been looked upon as a wedding gift, in advance. Everything would have proceeded smoothly but that Edward, coming out of a fit of abstraction remarked suddenly:
"Wish Muriel had been here!"
Captain Winterton broke the silence which followed, by adjusting the plates and glasses before him, pulling at collar, clearing voice, running fingers through his white head of hair. Standing up, he bowed to Mrs. Hillier. He rose, he said, on this happy occasion—this festive, domestic and matrimonial occasion, he might say—to propose a toast, one which, he felt sure, we should all join heart and hand in drinking. It was a happy toast, and this was a happy occasion. He loved a wedding, and during his somewhat lengthened progress through life—and he had had his fair share of bunions: yes, we might laugh, but he was speaking the truth—as he said, he loved a wedding; he had been to many, and hoped to go to many more. Captain Winterton spoke for five minutes, and closed with these lines,
"The toast, the toast, the toast's the thing
To make hands tingle, and glasses ring."
The old chap seemed greatly relieved to get the speech over: it occurred to me the style of it was somewhat away from his usual manner. Lieutenant Langford said, "Thanks, ever so much!" and we were chatting freely when the bell rang at the front door. I ran down. Colonel Edgington. He had brought a square parcel for Katherine, and was about to leave it, with his compliments, when I told him the wedding had just taken place. He bustled up the stairs, upbraided Mrs. Hillier for not informing him of the date, kissed the bride, took a chair, and declining other food, ate an orange with considerable fierceness. Katherine filled his glass, and he stood up, and frowned at us.
"I rise," he said, in a loud, determined voice, "on this happy, and I might say, festive, domestic and matrimonial occasion, to propose a toast which, I feel sure, you will all join heart and hand in drinking. It is a happy toast, and this is a happy occasion. I love a wedding, and during my somewhat lengthened progress through life, and I have had my fair share of bunions—oh yes, you may laugh, but I am speaking the truth—" The Colonel finished with,
"The toast, the toast, the toast's the thing
To make hands tingle, and glasses ring."