“There is a God, Bill. And He is good. We talked about Him too, if I recall correctly.”
“At least I’ve never doubted,” said I, “that He’s on the side of the chap who tries to do the best he can.”
Those were the last words I ever spoke to my lifelong friend as a single man. At that moment word came that Madelaine was ready.
Into the chancel he went behind the rector and I followed. Outside the communion rail he stood facing that great church of faces, manner grave but easy, a man in perfect control of himself.
Neither of us chanced to be looking at the end of the mid aisle when the sexton opened the big doors. A sudden peal of music from the high organ over our heads announced that Nathan’s Woman Beautiful was advancing to become his wife.
The wedding was on!
The ushers came first, walking two and two with the train of bridesmaids behind. A vast, motionless hush fell over that church as the wedding party moved toward the chancel and the bride came into view. Several women had their handkerchiefs ready to enjoy themselves. They did. At the profusion of autumnal flowers, the afternoon sunlight flooding richly through the huge stained-glass window high on the left, Madelaine advancing behind her maids on the arm of old “Am” Ruggles,—a choke came in my own throat, I’ll admit, and I teetered on the verge of making an ass of myself and spoiling my make-up generally.
Madelaine was wonderfully gowned, with a sweeping train. From her dusky coiffure fell a long tulle veil. She carried a mammoth bouquet of American Beauty roses. Her face was flushed. She was happy in that moment; it radiated from her.
She slipped her hand from old “Am’s” arm and the music suddenly died away. The church was very quiet. A pause.
“In the name of God, Amen!”