  The wedding day dawned gloriously. The two girls were up early and as soon as they were dressed, Nan drew her friend to the wide open window and they looked out at the garden, where masses of yellow chrysanthemums were glowing in the sunlight. Beyond, the wide silvery beach was glistening, and, over the gleaming blue water a flock of shining white sea gulls dipped and circled. Silently the two girls stood with arms about each other, and, in memory, Nan was again in the long ago. She was watching two children dressed in gypsy garb as they stood near the rushing, singing fountain. One was a dark, eager-eyed girl of thirteen, and the other was a mis-shapen, goblin-like boy of ten. Tirol, dear little Tirol. How he had loved her, how he had clung to her! Tears gathered in the girl’s eyes as she thought of the little fellow and she hoped that, somehow he might know what a happy day this was to be for his dear Sister Nan. “Look yonder!” Phyllis laughingly exclaimed, “Here comes a mounted messenger at full speed.” “It’s Bobsy, the gardener’s son,” Nan said. “He has been for an early ride on my Binnie.” The boy, chancing to see the two girls at the upper window, waved a letter, and, believing that he wished to give it to them, they went downstairs and out on the veranda. The boy’s freckled face was beaming. “Mr. Robert sent this over,” he said jubilantly, “and he gave me a five dollar gold piece toward my new bicycle.” Then away the boy galloped to tell this astounding news to his mother, while Nan opened the letter and read:
After breakfast Aunt Dahlia, Phyllis and Nan were wondering what the bride would wear for a wedding gown, when Monsieur Alecsandri returned from the station, whither he had gone at an early hour. A few moments later an expressman brought a trunk which was carried to Nan’s room. Then her uncle Basil smilingly handed her a key as he said: “Elenan, do me the honor of wearing one of the gowns that were prepared for your mother’s wedding.” Nan was indeed puzzled to know how she could please her uncle Basil, and yet keep her promise to Robert. When the trunk was opened and the garments which it contained had been spread about on bed, lounge and chairs, Nan turned to the older lady, her dark eyes aglow as she said, “Aunt Dahlia, dear, did you ever see fabrics more beautiful?” “This one is especially lovely,” the little lady said as she smoothed the folds of a soft, white silk. “I wish you would try it on, dearie.” And then, when the girl stood arrayed in the gown, Phyllis exclaimed, “Nan, that surely was made for your wedding dress.” “But, Phyllis, you are forgetting Robert’s request.” “No, I am not,” the other maid laughingly replied. Then for a moment she looked about the room thoughtfully. Spying the gorgeous scarlet and gold shawl, which in the long ago Manna Lou had given the girl, she took it and threw one fringed corner over Nan’s left shoulder, fastening it in front at the belt. Then, winding it about her waist, another point hung panelwise to the bottom of her skirt. The spangled yellow silk handkerchief was twined about the dark hair, and the picture reflected in the mirror was truly a beautiful one. “Tres charmante!” Phyllis exclaimed jubilantly. “Now, let me see, there should be something old and something new, something borrowed and something blue. The dress is new, to us anyway; that gorgeous shawl is old. I’ll loan you a handkerchief with a yellow and crimson border, and now, what shall you wear that is blue?” Miss Dahlia slipped from the room to return a moment later with a velvet box which she handed to the girl she so loved. “My mother gave it to me when I was eighteen,” the little lady said, “and I want to give it to my Nan on her wedding day.” The dark head and the fair bent eagerly over the box and when the cover was removed, the two girls uttered exclamations of joy. “Oh, how lovely, lovely!” Phyllis cried as she lifted a sapphire necklace and clasped it about the throat of the happy Nan. A busy morning was spent by the two girls, and, as it neared noon, Nan resplendently arrayed, looked up at Phyllis as she said, “I wonder where Aunt Dahlia is. She hasn’t been here for half an hour past. Perhaps she is in her room. Wait dear, and I will see.” Miss Barrington’s door was closed. Nan, after tapping, softly opened it. Miss Dahlia, with folded hands, was seated by the wide window gazing out at the sea and in her sweet grey eyes there was such a wistful loneliness. She looked up, as the girl entered, and smiled faintly, then her lips quivered and the tears came. “Oh, Aunt Dahlia, darling! How selfish I have been!” Nan cried, as heedless of her white silk dress, she knelt by the little woman and put her arms lovingly about her. “I never thought! Perhaps you didn’t want me to get married. But it isn’t too late, Aunt Dahlia, if you do not wish it.” “Dear little girl,” the old lady said tenderly, “of course I want you to be married. If I had searched the world over, I could not have chosen a lad whom I would like better. It is I who am selfish. I was fearing that Robert would take you away, and I don’t want to lose my Nan.” “Lose me, Aunt Dahlia? Do you think that I would let you lose me? You are dearer to me than all the world, and where I go, you shall go, but we will always come back, won’t we dearie, back to our garden-all-aglow where we have been so happy. Hark, the first stroke of the mission bells is telling that it is noon, and we must not be late at our very own wedding. Yes, Phyllis we are coming.” Monsieur Alecsandri was waiting for them in the library. Together they started along the flower bordered path toward the pepper tree, and Nan’s wedding music was the joyous song of the birds. |
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