Marjorie Dean, College Senior Part 17

"It does. Want another?"

"No, thank you. One more and I shall balk. Then who will see you to the wedding?"

In this frolicsome strain the Deans set out for Gray Gables to see the beautiful culmination of a romance begun with Marjorie's gift of a blue dress to a girl who had known little then of happiness.

As Constance had said to Marjorie, on the night of Jerry's and Hal's dance, only her near and dear ones were to be present at her marriage to Lawrence Armitage. This happy event was to take place at Gray Gables at eight o'clock that evening.

Due to the time of year, Constance had decided on a chrysanthemum wedding, these being her foster father, Mr. Stevens', favorite flowers.

Laurie held Mr. Stevens next to his own father in affection. He reverenced him as a master musician. Both he and Constance were glad to defer to his preference in this respect.

During the drive to Gray Gables, Marjorie found her mother's hand and held it. She was feeling rather emotional in a very quiet fas.h.i.+on.

Connie's wedding was not yet quite a reality. Could it be that at eight o'clock that evening Connie was actually to be married? It seemed only yesterday that she and Constance were walking home from high school, grumbling over the length of next days' French lesson.

Her captain understanding her sudden change of mood asked no questions, simply pa.s.sed her free arm about Marjorie's shoulders. Only the day before she had observed to her husband: "Here is our Constance on the eve of marriage. Marjorie is still nothing but a large child. Her ideas of love are very vague."

"I am glad of it," Mr. Dean had returned. "I hope her romance to come is still far distant."

Arrived at Gray Gables they found the large square reception hall and drawing room had been converted into a chrysanthemum bower. The clean fresh scent of chrysanthemums filled the air. At the foot of the wide staircase were two huge vases of large, fringed, white mums. From this point a white ribboned aisle began which extended to one end of the drawing room, where an exquisite banking of palms and yellow and white mums marked the spot before which Constance and Laurie would stand to repeat their vows of deathless love and loyalty. Along each side of the ribboned way bloomed a hedge of golden and white mums of the small, bushy variety. The aisles reminded Marjorie of the chrysanthemum walk at Wayland Hall, designed by Brooke Hamilton.

"Go on up stairs, Marjorie," Miss Allison directed, after welcoming the Deans. "Constance looks so lovely. She is waiting anxiously for you."

Marjorie needed no second instructions. She ran up the stairs in her usual buoyant fas.h.i.+on and knocked at a familiar door.

"Come in." Constance rose from before her dressing table as Marjorie entered. The two met in the middle of the room and embraced. For a long moment they stood thus. In the eyes of each were tears which they both strove to check.

"I'm so happy, Marjorie, and sad, and my feelings are a general jumble,"

half sobbed Constance.

Marjorie nodded through tears. "I know. I feel that way, too, just because it's you. I don't want to cry and make my eyelids pink and neither do you," she added with a tremulous laugh.

This brought a smile to Constance's lovely but distinctly solemn features. The first rush of emotion past, the chums felt better.

"How dear you are in your wedding gown!" Marjorie exclaimed. She had now stepped far enough away from Constance to obtain a good view of her. The dress was of heavy white satin, beautiful in its simplicity of design.

On a white-covered stand nearby lay the long fine lace veil with its perfumed garniture of lilies of the valley and orange blossoms. Beside it was the bride's bouquet, a shower of the same sweet lilies and orange blossoms.

"This is Laurie's gift to me." Constance touched tenderly a string of luscious pearls adorning her white throat. "I want you to help me adjust my veil. Aunt Susan's maid wished to, but I wouldn't let her. I preferred you to do it, Marjorie."

"I'd love to. You know that," Marjorie left off admiring the pearls to make this warm a.s.surance. "Go and sit on your dressing-table chair. Then you can see me fix your veil and be sure that you are satisfied with it."

Constance obediently complied. Marjorie lightly lifted the fairy-like bridal insignia and placed it upon her friend's head.

"I am your fairy G.o.d-mother," she said in a dramatic voice. "On your wedding night I come to bring you every known happiness. I place the chaplet of love upon your head and grant you a long, untroubled life."

Both girls laughed at this bit of fancy, the oval mirror reflecting a charming picture as Marjorie carefully adjusted the veil over Connie's golden curls.

Presently the floor clock in the room ticked off ten minutes to eight.

Next Miss Allison entered with: "Are you ready, dear?"

"Yes, Auntie." Constance rose and held out both hands to the woman whose great-heartedness had changed the current of her whole life. "I wish I could thank you for all you've done for me, Aunt Susan," she said with wistful sincerity. "It is so beautiful to have this kind of wedding from the home you gave me and surrounded by my very best friends."

"Nonsense, child," declared Miss Allison with gentle energy. "Think of all you have given me to make me happy. Though I shall miss you more when you are in Europe, simply because you are farther away, I feel this to be a particularly wonderful ending of a Thanksgiving Day. Now I must leave you girls and go on down stairs. Be ready to descend on the first notes of the wedding march, Connie. Don't keep your bridegroom waiting."

With this touch of humor she left them.

As Mr. Stevens, Uncle John Roland and little Charlie were detailed to give away the bride, Professor Harmon, Laurie's old friend at Weston High School, and three members of the Sanford orchestra formerly directed by Mr. Stevens, had been invited to play the wedding music.

With the first dulcet strains of Mendelssohn's immortal Wedding March, Constance began a slow descent of the staircase, followed by Marjorie.

It seemed eminently fitting that Marjorie, who had so loyally stood by Constance through thick and thin, should now be making this short though momentous pilgrimage with her.

At the foot of the stairs, Laurie, looking handsomer than Marjorie had ever before seen him, awaited his bride. Hal, his boyhood friend, stood beside him. Marjorie flashed him a bright, friendly glance as the two of them fell in behind their chums and began the walk through the flowery aisle to the bank of chrysanthemums. There Mr. Armitage, Miss Allison, Uncle John, Mr. Stevens and Charlie awaited them. Laurie had wished matters thus arranged.

Gathered informally in the s.p.a.cious room were the Lookouts of the original chapter, Miss Archer, Mr. La Salle, two or three Weston High School instructors whom Laurie had specially liked, a dozen or more of his high school comrades, two or three friends of his father's, and his dead mother's only sister. These made up the wedding guests. As the last telling strains of the wedding march died into that impressive silence which always immediately precedes the bridal ceremony, the company moved forward and formed a wide, wors.h.i.+ping circle about the wedding party.

Then the rector of the Sanford Episcopal Church began the fine, old Episcopalian ring service.

It was the first wedding in which Marjorie had taken a part more important than that of guest. Constance was also the first one of the Lookouts to be married. So thoroughly impressed was she with Constance and Laurie, she gave no special thought to Hal. He was wondering with might and main if Marjorie might possibly awaken to love as a result of the marriage of the best friend of each of them. Hal had learned his lesson, however, on the night of the dance he and Jerry had given. He had then understood definitely that Marjorie wished to keep far away from any sentiment for him deeper than friends.h.i.+p. He was resolved to keep to this plane, no matter how bitterly it grieved him. He would never give Marjorie up as his prospective wife until he heard from her own lips that she did not love him. Still, he would never again make the faintest approach toward sentiment unless he saw for himself that it was not distasteful to her. He had set a hard task for himself. He was determined to carry it through. Boyishly, he told himself that if ever he asked Marjorie to marry him and she refused him, he would never marry.

The ceremony over, Constance was pa.s.sed from one to another of her dear ones, while Laurie received the firm handclasps of his men friends. As the hands of Hal and Laurie met, their eyes exchanged glances. In Laurie's was untold sympathy. In Hal's was an expression which might have been either fort.i.tude or proud resignation. Laurie could not judge which. He could only hope, as he had recently told Constance, that Marjorie would wake up some day to what a real prince old Hal was.

Solemnity, even momentary, could not long survive the unique presence of Charlie Stevens. Hardly had the first congratulations been extended when Charlie loudly expressed himself to Marjorie.

"I was going to marry you myself, Marj'rie, but I sha'n't. You're a good deal too tall and old to make me a nice wife," he pleasantly observed.

"That's quite a pretty dress you've got on. Someone else, maybe someone as tall as Laurie or Hal might like to marry you-someday. I wouldn't. I like you, Marj'rie, 'bout the best of all, next to Connie and Mary Raymond, but I'd rather stay at home with Uncle John than get married."

"I think it is just as well you changed your mind, Charlie." Marjorie joined in the laughter at her expense. Her color had deepened a trifle at Charlie's hopeful prophecy that someone as tall as Hal might like to marry her some day.

"I think so, too," Charlie agreed importantly. "I may get married when I'm about a hundred. I'll be a good deal taller then. I and my wife will come to your house to see Delia and have her give us some choc'lit cake."

Well satisfied with this plan, he trotted off after his idol, Uncle John Roland, who could not look at Connie without tears. He had left the group gathered about the bridal couple until he was again able to control his emotions.

Laurie and Constance had elected to spend a week's honeymoon in the Armitages' New York home, which Laurie had been preparing for his bride for three months before their marriage. From there they would sail for Europe. They were to leave Sanford on the eleven o'clock express for New York.

Constance's last act before changing her wedding dress for travel attire was to throw her bouquet from the open staircase down among her girl friends. Muriel Harding captured it, thereby bringing down upon herself plenty of good-natured raillery. Marjorie had tried with the others to catch the bouquet, as a matter of sport. She was secretly glad when it fled past her and almost into Muriel's hands. While she had taken the utmost interest in Connie's wedding, she did not wish to be reminded, even by a fragrant floral sign, that somewhere in the future lurked a wedding day for herself.

CHAPTER XVIII-BLACK DISAPPOINTMENT

Returned to Hamilton from the Thanksgiving holiday, the most important subject on Marjorie's horizon was that of the real estate transaction she and Robin Page hoped to close with Mr. Cutler. He had stated that the owner of the boarding house properties would be in Hamilton after Thanksgiving. Both she and Robin were impatient to hear from the agent, yet neither felt like forcing matters.

It was over a week after Thanksgiving when Marjorie joyfully pounced upon a letter in the Hall bulletin board, addressed to her, and bearing the agent's printed address in the upper left hand corner. The four typed lines which comprised the letter stated that the owner of the properties in which they were interested would be in Hamilton on the following Monday. Mr. Cutler requested them to call at his office at four o'clock of the succeeding Wednesday afternoon.

"I'll be glad to have this part of our great undertaking settled and off my mind," Marjorie buoyantly told Robin that afternoon as the two girls left Science Hall together. Marjorie had stopped at the Biological Laboratory for Robin in order to acquaint her with the welcome news.

"When we know definitely how much the properties are going to cost us we will have more incentive to go ahead and rush our first show of the season through. Nothing like knowing exactly where one stands, is there?" Robin finished interrogatively.

Marjorie quickly agreed with this statement. Her naturally orderly mind clamored for the suspense to end so that the real work might begin.

"It will be a good thing to have it off our chests by Wednesday," she congratulated. "Sat.u.r.day's the first fres.h.i.+e-soph game, you know. We will have to be present. I can look forward to enjoying it, with this important question settled."