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XXX. A Wedding at the Stone House
”Anneflewtothewindow,hopingagainsthopethatCharlottatheFourthwassayingthismerelybywayofrousinghereffectually.Butalas,themorningdidlookunpropitious.BelowthewindowMissLavendar’sgarden,whichshouldhavebeenagloryofpalevirginsunshine,laydimandwindless;andtheskyoverthefirswasdarkwithmoodyclouds.
“Isn’tittoomean!”saidDiana.
“Wemusthopeforthebest,”saidAnnedeterminedly.“Ifitonlydoesn’tactuallyrain,acool,pearlygraydaylikethiswouldreallybenicerthanhotsunshine.”
“Butitwillrain,”mournedCharlotta,creepingintotheroom,afigureoffun,withhermanybraidswoundaboutherhead,theends,tiedupwithwhitethread,stickingoutinalldirections.“It’llholdofftillthelastminuteandthenpourcatsanddogs.Andallthefolkswillgetsopping...andtrackmudalloverthehouse...andtheywon’tbeabletobemarriedunderthehoneysuckle...andit’sawfulunluckyfornosuntoshineonabride,saywhatyouwill,MissShirley,ma’am.Iknewthingsweregoingtoowelltolast.”
CharlottatheFourthseemedcertainlytohaveborrowedaleafoutofMissElizaAndrews’book.
Itdidnotrain,thoughitkeptonlookingasifitmeantto.Bynoontheroomsweredecorated,thetablebeautifullylaid;andupstairswaswaitingabride,“adornedforherhusband.”
“Youdolooksweet,”saidAnnerapturously.
“Lovely,”echoedDiana.
