Round the Corner in Gay Street Part 19

"I should really not have felt properly dressed," averred Mrs. Bell, as Jane hovered about her, performing all sorts of small offices, "if you had not been here to a.s.sure me that I was quite right in all points."

As Jane smiled, first at her mother, then at her father, wondering how she had ever been able, even for Murray's sake, to leave two people so dear, a low call, apparently proceeding from downstairs, reached her ear, and she turned quickly to listen.

"Jane?" came the voice again, interrogatively. "Gentle Jane, you 're not lost to me for good and all?"

Jane ran to the head of the small stairway and looked down. In the light from a bracket lamp at the foot, her husband's face smiled up at her. A bright, strong face it was, ruddy with health, and alert with interest in that which he beheld at the top of the stairs. Murray was in evening dress, and as Jane observed the fact she cried softly and regretfully:

"Why, it must be later than I thought! I did n't mean to be away when you came--I 'm so sorry! It doesn't seem as if I 'd been here five minutes."

"No excuses necessary, dear," he answered. "When I sent you word, I did n't expect to be able to get away till the last minute, but a telegram from a man who had an appointment with father let us out, and I followed my message home. I came after you because mother is getting a bit uneasy. She wants to be sure the bride is at her elbow, ready for the fray, though not a soul will show up, of course, till long after the hour on the cards."

"I 'll come this minute," and Jane caught up her long coat, threw a kiss at her family, and hurried down. "You 'll all come right away, won't you?" she called back, and let Murray walk off with her.

At the curb she paused. "I meant to have borrowed Nan's rubbers," she said, looking down at her white-shod feet. "I forgot when I came over."

"That's easy," and Murray had her across the street before she could protest that she was too heavy for him.

"You could n't have done that when I first knew you, could you?" laughed Jane, with pride in his strength of arm.

"Not much. What a slim and sickly whiffet I was! I wonder you ever looked twice at me, with Pete at hand as a contrast."

"I liked muscle, but I like brains too," explained Jane, as if this were the first time the matter had been made clear.

"Thank you. I 'm afraid I had none too many of those, either. The house looks festive, does n't it? Have you seen the dining-room? Mother seemed to be particularly pleased with the decorations there."

"I 'm afraid I ran away in too much of a hurry to notice."

Murray gave his young wife an amused look as they stood together on the steps of the small side entrance by which Jane had come out an hour before.

"Do you know where you are to stand in the receiving line?" he inquired.

Jane shook her head.

"Do you know whether you are to shake hands with the guests or merely bow?"

"No. You 'll tell me, won't you?"

"Do you know whether I 'm to present people you don't know to you, or whether you 're to depend on mother for that?"

"I suppose I'll find that out when the time comes."

"Do you know whether you ought to look beamingly happy or coolly composed?"

"Which do you prefer?"

Murray laughed. "A judicious mixture of both, I should say. Well, my small bride, ignorant as you profess to be of your part, I 'm not worried about you. Just the same, I expect we 'd better hunt up mother and be coached as to the precise line of conduct she expects of us. I 've never played the leading man's part in a bridal 'At Home' myself, and mother's something of a stickler for doing things according to the latest revision of the code. Well, well," he added in surprise, glancing at his watch as they entered the hall, "it's later than I thought. Do you need to go upstairs?"

"Just a minute--to smooth my unruly hair," and Jane ran away, leaving him gazing after her.

"Murray!" His mother came toward him from the library, a striking, even imposing, figure in black and white lace and amethysts. "Between you and Jane, I was getting anxious. I have n't seen the child since I went to her room, at least two hours ago."

"She is all ready--dressed early so she might run home, since I sent her word I should be late."

"But where is she now?"

"Ran upstairs to see if her hair was right. Is n't that the invariable custom at the last minute?"

"She is wearing her wedding-gown, of course?"

"She surely is."

"No ornaments?"

"I sent her some roses. She 'll carry them, or wear one, or something, I suppose."

"But no jewels?"

"I think she 's wearing the pearl pin I gave her."

"Murray! You are quite as bad as Jane! To be sure, her girlish way of dressing has been very pretty and appropriate in view of her father's lack of means. But her position now, as your wife, is different. Olive insists that Jane does not care for ornaments of any sort, but I am sure she would not object, Murray, to wearing that beautiful pearl necklace of Grandmother Townsend's--if you explain to her that it's an heirloom and that it will give me great pleasure to have her wear it? Pearls are not becoming to Olive," added Mrs. Townsend, and her son smiled.

"If you want Jane to wear that, mother, you will have to ask her yourself. She 's coming now, I think. Yes"--as Jane looked over the gallery rail and nodded down at him--"here she is. Do you really think she needs 'ornaments'? They strike me as superfluous."

Mother and son were watching Jane as she came down the staircase, her white figure outlined against the dark green of the palms and foliage.

Her bronze-tinted hair shone like a crown under the radiance of the lights, and her softly blooming face made one forget the simplicity of her attire. At least, it made Murray forget it. But Mrs. Harrison Townsend saw in the white neck and arms a background for her pearls.

She picked up a case from the table where she had laid it.

"My dear," she said, "you are very sweet, and I shall be very proud to present you as my daughter. And you won't mind wearing, to please me, these pearls of Murray's great-grandmother's, will you? They are just what you need to set off your colouring."

Jane's face grew warm as her eyes fell upon the pearls, lying in a worn old case lined with faded green velvet. She looked from them to Murray--an appealing little glance and a questioning one. He nodded ever so slightly in return, smiling at her.

"You are very kind," said Jane, simply, to her mother-in-law. "I will wear them--if you wish."

She let Mrs. Townsend clasp the necklace, received that lady's kiss and approving comment on the difference it made in her appearance, and allowed herself to be led to a mirror to see the effect. As she stood before it, her lashes falling after one glance of a pair of unwilling eyes, somebody called Murray's mother away. Jane looked at her husband again.

"Yes, I know you hate it, little modesty," said he. "And I own I like to see you without any jewels. Yet there can be no doubt you become those pearls. You set them off, not they you. And seeing they 're not diamonds----"

Jane's eyes flashed. "Not even for you----"

His eyes responded with an answering brilliance, as he shook his head, laughing. "Not even for me! Are you sure? But you need n't fear.

Diamonds, little Jane Townsend, were not made for you. Let those sparkle who want to. I prefer a steady glow!"

An hour later Ross McAndrew and Peter Bell, making their entrance to the long drawing-room together, and waiting their turn to advance toward the receiving party, exchanged a series of low-voiced comments, under cover of the general hum of talk.

"My word, Pete! Can that be our small girl, standing up there like a young queen? Watch her! I say, watch her!"

"I am watching her," said Peter, with great satisfaction. "If you see my eyes drop out, pick 'em up, will you?"

"Not that we might n't have expected it of her. I knew well enough she 'd be sweet and charming--but that little gracious manner--that self-possession--jolly, she's great!"