That would be too bad, especially when the late
apple tree had most obligingly kept its store of blossom until
after all the other trees had faded and then burst lavishly into
bloom for Aunt Olivia's wedding. That apple tree was always very
late in blooming, and this year it was a week later than usual.
It was a sight to see--a great tree-pyramid with high, far-
spreading boughs, over which a wealth of rosy snow seemed to have
been flung. Never had bride a more magnificent canopy.
To our rapture, however, it cleared up beautifully Tuesday
evening, and the sun, before setting in purple pomp, poured a
flood of wonderful radiance over the whole great, green, diamond-
dripping world, promising a fair morrow. Uncle Alec drove off to
the station through it to bring home the bridegroom and his best
man. Dan was full of a wild idea that we should all meet them at
the gate, armed with cowbells and tin-pans, and "charivari" them
up the lane. Peter sided with him, but the rest of us voted down
the suggestion.
"Do you want Dr. Seton to think we are a pack of wild Indians?"
asked Felicity severely. "A nice opinion he'd have of our
manners!"
"Well, it's the only chance we'll have to chivaree them," grumbled
Dan. "Aunt Olivia wouldn't mind.
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