The small home wedding that Nance and Molly had originally planned grew to be quite large. Little by little it seemed impossible to get married without first one person and then the other. Andy had many friends at Exmoor and Wellington; Dr. and Mrs. McLean knew half the country and had a long list to be invited; Nance wanted the whole faculty and some of the girls who were favorites of Molly’s; Kent Brown arrived from New York bringing with him Mr. Matsuki, frankly delighted to be included in so honorable an assemblage.

“Surely they can’t all of them sleep here,” said Edwin to his wife as he put on his wedding garments.

“They can, but they won’t,” she answered, laughing at his woeful expression. “The house party breaks up after the ceremony. Do I look all right?”

“Beautiful!”

“I mean my dress!”

“But I mean you! I don’t know anything about your dress except that it is blue as it should be.”

“Can you find your collar buttons and is your tie all right?” asked the anxious housewife as she accepted with very good grace the embrace Edwin felt was necessary to his happiness just then.

“Yes! Everything O.K.! I am sorry for the bride because you are so lovely, honey. Nance is a pretty girl but I am afraid nobody will see her because of the matron of honor.”

“Such a goose! Now I must go look after the flower girls. Katy has them coralled in the nursery where they can’t get dirty. They are the sweetest looking creatures you ever saw in your life. Dodo looks like a beautiful cabbage rose himself, his cheeks are so rosy. I wish Mother could see him.”

“Why doesn’t she come on to the wedding?”

“Sue needs her in Kentucky. The only trouble about Mother is that there is only one of her. I need her more than anything right now. If she were here she would take hold of this wedding breakfast and I would know it would come off right,” sighed Molly, who, true to her character, had planned to do enough for two persons. “Thank goodness, Judy is here!”

The ceremony was to be at twelve and then a wedding breakfast served. This meant Molly was to be very busy. The girls were helping, but at the same time they were more or less flustered trying to get themselves dressed all in one room. They had determined to make this a gay light wedding as to clothes at least. There was a feeling of excitement in every breast, excitement mingled with sadness. Was not this the most momentous day in the life of every true American? War was declared! Perhaps had they realized just what war meant, those girls could not have donned those gay, bright garments. Would they have had the courage to wish their friend God-speed so cheerily? I believe they would. They were of the stuff of the mothers of men. On that second of April, 1917, every woman in the United States must have felt somewhat as Molly Brown’s college friends felt. It was a feeling of excitement, awe, exhilaration and dread combined.

Nance was gowned in white with a wonderful lace veil Otoyo had brought as her present. It was as filmy as the clouds that rest on Fujiyama, the sacred mountain of Otoyo’s country.

“Only suppose she had brought a tea basket like mine! What would that have looked like on your head?” giggled Judy, who was in a strangely hysterical state. She was one girl who very well knew what the war was to mean. Had she not been on the outskirts of war in 1914 when she was stranded in Paris? Had she not seen the soldiers marching off bidding farewell to their nearest and dearest,—sometimes a final farewell? Kent had spent all the time he could in training camps since they had been opened to citizens of the United States, and now he was confident of receiving a commission. Perhaps it would mean that her husband would be in the trenches in a short time. She wanted him to want to go, was proud of him for wanting to,—but oh, the agony of it all!

Almost time for the ceremony now! Molly made her final tour of inspection. Edwin, Kent and Mr. Matsuki were safe in the den where they eagerly discussed politics. Dr. and Mrs. McLean arrived, holding Andy between them as though they might lose him before it was time.

“I meant to help you, Molly, child, but my hea-r-r-t is so joompy I am afraid it will be best for me to compose meself,” said the poor mother. “Don’t let Andy know!”

Molly kissed the dear lady and asked Katherine to stay near her. Katherine’s dressing was always a simple matter, as her gowns consisted of shirt-waists and skirts in various materials to suit various occasions. She declared she could dress in the dark and look just as well as though she had had cheval glasses and a blaze of light.

The other girls were ready and came down to the parlors to help receive the guests. Nance was lovely and looked as fresh and sweet as a white violet as she sat in her room sedately awaiting the hour. A visit to the nursery disclosed the children piously standing with backs to the window and arms held well away from their fluffy skirts, as charming flower girls as one could find.

“I’m so ’appee! I’m so ’appee! I’m Mildred’s Japanese dollee! She’s my kick-up dollee!” sang the little Cho-Cho-San. “All I want is bald spot, and all she wants is stick up hair!”

“Ain’t we your little comforts, Muvver?” asked Mildred.

“Indeed you are, my darling! Now when Judy calls, you come running so you can go down the stairs in front of Aunt Nance. Judy will have your wreaths all ready. Where is Katy?”

“She’s peeking at the comply.”

“Well, you kiddies be good and don’t get your dresses mussed. It is almost time now. Don’t wake Dodo.” Of course Dodo had gone to sleep, since there was nothing more important on hand just then. Molly hurried off to the kitchen to see that the wedding breakfast was coming on as she had planned. Mrs. Murphy had hobbled up to help Kizzie, and Mrs. McLean had sent over her two maids.

“All they need is a boss,” sighed poor Molly. “If I only could be two places at one time!”

But whose familiar figure was that seen through the scullery door? The maids were all in a broad grin and Kizzie, as she expressed it, “was fittin’ to bust.”

“Mother! Mother! Where on earth did you come from?” and Molly had that dear lady clasped in her arms. “What are you doing in the back? Come on and hurry and get dressed! It is almost time!” Molly felt like little Cho-Cho when she cried out: “I’m so ’appee! I’m so ’appee!”

“I just this minute arrived and have no idea of dressing!” cried that dear lady when she could speak.

“Of course you needn’t dress! You are lovely as you are—your hair is a bit mussed—and——”

“You mussed it but it will do very well for the part I am to play. I have no idea of appearing. I mean to serve this breakfast.”

“But, Mother, I couldn’t let you!”

“Nonsense! That is what I hurried on for. Why, child, when I realized that you were having a house party and a wedding and going to serve a great breakfast, I simply jumped on the train with a hand-bag and flew to you. You always have behaved as though you were triplets. Now run along and don’t tell a soul I am here. I can be honored later on; now I want a big apron and room to operate. Kizzie has already told me what the breakfast is to be and you need not think about it. Run along!”

“Well, one more hug and I am gone. Aren’t you even going to peek at the comply, as Mildred says?”

“Oh, I’ll see the ceremony, never fear; but fly, Molly! The guests are coming.”

Molly felt as though she really could fly. Her mother’s arrival had relieved her of all fear about the wedding breakfast. It would be obliged to go off without a hitch now. Dear, dear Mother! How like her to come quietly slipping in the back way just in the nick of time!

One could have heard a pin drop in the old square house on the campus as the first strains of the wedding march arose and the rustle of skirts on the stairway announced the approach of the wedding procession. Andy was shaking and shivering in the hall, tightly clutching his father’s arm. He had declared that Dr. McLean must be his best man and would hear of no other. Of course he was just as scared as the groom always is, at least, all proper grooms.

At Judy’s signal the little flower girls came dancing from the nursery, their fluffy skirts flying. The wreaths and garlands were handed them and they marched down the stairs feeling much more important than Nance herself.

“Heavens!” thought Molly as she followed them with Nance, “what on earth is the matter with Mildred’s hair?” It was standing up in a most peculiar way. Instead of the curls that Katy had so carefully made, her ringlets had been brushed out and Molly realized that at least four inches of her daughter’s hair had been cut off. “And Cho-Cho-San! What has happened to her?” In the middle of the child’s head was a bare spot at least three inches in diameter. It looked as though it had been shaved.

Whatever the matter was, it affected the flower girls not in the least. With many tosses of those shorn heads they marched into the parlor, scattering their posies as they had been told. When Otoyo saw the bald spot on the head of her offspring she almost fainted and had to hold on to the ready arm of honorable husband. Cho-Cho-San had clipped Mildred’s hair to make it stand up like a kick-up dolly, and Mildred had stolen her father’s safety razor and converted her little friend into a veritable Japanese dolly.

Nothing but the solemnity of the occasion kept Molly from hysterics. The little wretches must have got busy after she made her visit to the nursery. Evidently they were doing what Mildred called “playing true.” Cho-Cho was a Japanese dolly and Mildred was a kick-up. The little visitor did look exactly like one of those fascinating Japanese dolls, and Molly could but smile in spite of her distress. She was afraid to catch Judy’s eye as she stepped back to let Andy take his place by Nance’s side.

Never had the wedding ceremony seemed so impressive as on that second of April. Every mind was filled with the importance of the step that the country was taking, and with the prayer that Andy and Nance would prosper, was breathed the thought that the United States might come out victorious.

Nance was to go with Andy’s unit in the capacity of interpreter. She was not a brilliant French scholar but was thorough in her knowledge of that as of everything she had undertaken. She frankly declared that she had been separated from Andy long enough and she intended to follow him to the ends of the earth if need be. It was that wonderful fact that made Andy’s “I will!” so strong and clear. His tremblings left him and he stood by his dear girl like the soldier of the Red Cross that he was. Nothing was impossible or too hard if Nance was to be with him.

Mrs. McLean’s good, honest face was like an angel’s as she gazed on her new daughter-in-law. No jealousy was depicted there—nothing but adoration, gratitude that the girl was to make her Andy happy. Poor Dr. McLean was sobbing like a baby and his good wife had to put her arms around him to comfort him.

All over! “Whom God hath joined together let no man put asunder.” Andy clasped his Nance with the look of: “I dare anyone to try!”

Otoyo and Molly held a whispered consultation over their imaginative offspring and decided that nothing was to be said or done to the culprits on that day of days,—the reckoning must be deferred.

Those infants were greatly astonished, somewhat relieved and secretly chagrined that their prank was not noticed. They had expected to be even more important than the bride in their rÔles of Japanese and kick-up dolls.

“I weckon nobody don’t love us ’nough to spank us even,” pouted Mildred.

“Japanese babee gets not spank-ed—but honorable mother frowns on Cho-Cho when she loves her most after naughtiness—but now—but now—she smiles, but not with love,” was the wail of the companion in crime and misery.

The efficient helmsman in the kitchen steered the wedding breakfast to safety. The affair went off with such expedition that the housekeepers present marveled at Molly’s cleverness.

“She must have trained her servants wonderfully well,” whispered one.

“I remember the joke they got off on Molly in college,” laughed Miss Walker. “It was that she came of a family of famous cooks.”

“It is not only the cooking now,” said Mrs. Fern, Edwin’s cousin and the mother of the perfect Alice. “It is the way it is served and the orderliness of the waitresses. I wonder that Molly can be with her guests while it is being done unless she has had a caterer come up from New York. I simply have to be in the pantry myself when my daughters entertain on a large scale. That is, unless I can hire someone to come take charge, and Wellington does not boast such a person. Alice is very particular but not willing to do much herself,—not able, in fact,” she added lamely, a little afraid of having criticized her perfect daughter in public.

Mrs. Fern was very fond of Molly and admired her greatly in spite of the fact that she could not help bearing her a tiny secret grudge for marrying Edwin Green. That good lady had in her heart of hearts hoped that Alice was to bear off the professional prize. Perfect persons are not always very pleasant to live with and Alice Fern was no exception to the rule. Mrs. Fern wished no harm to Edwin but she would have been glad to shift her burden of perfectness to other shoulders.

“We are just asking ourselves how you do it, my dear,” she said as Molly came up to see that all was going well with her guests.

“Do it! I’ll tell you a secret that I was not to divulge but I am simply bursting with it: Mother is in the pantry! She came in the back way, without my even knowing she had left Kentucky, and now she is directing operations. She refuses to appear until the party is over.”

“Ah, that is the reason for that glow in your eyes!” exclaimed Miss Walker. “I used to say when you were a college girl that I could tell by your expression when the western mail had brought you a letter from Kentucky.”

“I didn’t know it showed so,” blushed Molly, “but it does make me feel warm all over when I know my mother is near.”