We are going to the wedding, and you shall be best men," and
the boys settled down, chuckling and whispering, but presently Ian
looked up, as light dawned, and cried: "I spy! It's you, Uncle Martin,
and Aunt Lavinia is your Mrs., only you couldn't find her all summer till
to-day," and he hugged his friend around the legs, which were all he
could reach, but Richard leaned backward until his head rested on Miss
Lavinia's knees, and he reached up his cooing lips to be kissed.
The rest of the ride to town was uneventful, except that when they
reached the outskirts they met Jenks-Smith's coach loaded with Whirlpool
people, but the Lady of the Bluffs saw nothing strange in the
combination, and merely shook her parasol at them, calling, "I'm sorry to
hear you're flitting, just when it's getting lively again, too!"
Fortunately the rector of All Saints' was at home, likewise the requisite
number of his family, for witnesses. Then it transpired that the couple
had never thought of the ring, and while Martin went out to buy one, Miss
Lavinia was left sitting on the edge of a very stiff sofa with a boy on
either side of her, with the Rectory family drawn up opposite like an
opposing force, which did not encourage easy conversation.
However, the agony was soon over, and the bride and groom left,
Martin giving his old classmate, to whom the world had been
penurious, a hand-shake that, when examined by the breathless family
a few moments later, was found to yield at least a new parlour
carpet, an easy-chair for the Rector's bent back, and a new clerical
suit to cover his gaunt frame.
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