I am not going to describe the wedding in this Journal. A civil ceremony
is not interesting in its baldness. I had literally no emotions, and
Alathea looked as pale as her white frock. She wore a little sable toque
and a big sable cloak I had sent her the night before, by Nelson. The
ring was the new diamond hoop set in platinum. No more gold fetters for
modern girls!
Old George and Mr. Nelson were our witnesses, and the whole thing was
over in a few minutes, and we were being congratulated. Burton was by
far the happiest face there, as he helped me into the automobile, lent
by the Embassy. Alathea had just shaken hands with Mr. Nelson and been
wished joy by George. I wonder what he thought of the glasses, which
even for the wedding she had not taken off!
"May you know every happiness, Lady Thormonde," he said. "Take care of
Nicholas and make him quite well, he is the best fellow on earth."
Alathea thanked him coldly. He is such a citizen of the world that he
showed no surprise, and finally we were off on our way to the flat.
Here Madame Bizot and her daughter, and the baby, awaited us! And in the
creature's tiny hand was a bunch of violets. This was the first time
Alathea smiled. She bent and kissed the wee face. These people know and
love her. I stayed behind a few moments to express my substantial
appreciation of their friendly interest. Burton had been beside the
chauffeur to help me in and out, and while we had been driving Alathea
had not spoken a word. She had turned from me, and her little body was
drawn back as far in the corner as possible.
My own emotions were queer. I did not feel actually excited. I felt just
as I used when we were going to take up a new position on the line where
great watchfulness would be necessary to succeed.
The maid Alathea had engaged arrived in the morning, and I had had the
loveliest flowers put in all the rooms. Pierre intended to outdo himself
for the wedding déjeuner, I knew, and Burton had been able to find
somewhere a really respectable looking footman, not too obviously
wounded.
Alathea handed me my crutch as we got out of the lift. Perhaps she
thinks this is going to be one of her new duties!
We went straight into the sitting-room and I sat down in my chair. Her
maid, named Henriette, had taken her cloak and hat in the hall, and I
suppose from sheer nervousness, and to cover the first awkward moments,
Alathea buried her face in the big bowl of roses on a table near another
arm chair, before she sat down in it.