Master of the Vineyard - Page 197/198

Rosemary hesitated. "Yes," she sighed, "I'll go. I think I ought to."

"Don't if you don't want to. I wouldn't spoil my wedding-day by doing anything I didn't like to do."

Grandmother Relaxes

"I want to," murmured Rosemary. "I wouldn't feel right not to."

So, when she was ready, she went into the old lady's room. Happiness made her almost lovely as she stood there in her simple white gown and big plumed hat, drawing long white kid gloves over her red hands.

"Grandmother," she said, tremulously, "I'm going up to the church now, to be married to Alden Marsh. Before I go, I want to tell you I'm sorry if I've ever done anything I shouldn't do, and ask you to forgive me for any unhappiness I may ever have caused you. I haven't meant to do it, and I--I believe you've meant to be good to me. I hope you're glad I'm going to be happy now."

The stern old face relaxed, ever so little, the sharp eyes softened with mist, and by tremendous effort, Grandmother put out a withered, wavering hand. Rosemary bent over the bed, lifted her in her strong young arms, and kissed her twice, then hurried away.

Alden met them as they were half-way to the church, and, utterly regardless of two or three interested children who happened to be passing, shook hands with Aunt Matilda, then bent to kiss the flushed and happy face under the big plumed hat.

"What magnificence!" he said. "I'm unworthy of so much splendour, I'm afraid. How on earth did you manage it?"

The Ceremony

Rosemary glanced at Aunt Matilda, then laughed a little sadly. "Oh," she answered, with assumed lightness, "I--just managed it, that's all."

At the door of the church Madame welcomed them with an armful of white roses for the bride. She, too, had a new gown in honour of the occasion, and her sweet old face was radiant with smiles. "What a lovely bride," she said, as she kissed Rosemary. "Oh, my dear! You mustn't, truly! No tears on a wedding-day!"

The minister was waiting at the altar. Madame and Aunt Matilda sat down together in a front pew; there was a moment's solemn hush, then the beautiful service began.

Sunlight streamed through the open windows, carrying the colour and fragrance of Autumn into every nook and cranny of the church. From outside came the cheery piping of a robin that had paused upon a convenient window sill to peep in. There was a rush of tiny, furred feet through the drifted leaves, and a gleam of scarlet as a falling maple leaf floated past the open door. In the sunlight the taper lights on the altar gleamed like great stars suddenly come to earth.