THE HIGH TRYST
The space on each side of the ribboned aisle from its beginning at the
foot of the staircase to its terminus in front of the rose bank was
thronged with guests. Came a subdued murmur from the friendly assemblage
and a great craning of necks as the bridal cortége passed through the
ribboned lane on its way to the altar.
The musicians had been stationed just inside the wide double doorway
between the hall and the salon. Despite the stellar role which had been
assigned to Jerry in the drama of Romance she managed to turn her head
toward the orchestra, sending a fleeting, affectionate glance toward the
slender golden-haired young woman smiling radiantly at her from a seat
among the musicians.
Immediately the procession had passed the orchestra, Constance and
Laurie rose and followed in order to join a certain small group of
persons who were standing a little at the right of the altar. It
comprised Mrs. Macy, Mr. and Mrs. Dean, Mr. and Mrs. Seabrooke and
Jerry’s Sanford married chums, together with their husbands. There was
Irma Linton, now Irma Norwood, and her ever devoted cavalier of
high-school days, the “Crane.” Connie and Laurie, Marjorie and Hal, and
Susan Atwell, now Susan Armstrong, with her tall bronzed western mate.
Of the original sextette of Sanford youngsters who had been such famous
pals Muriel Harding Lenox and her husband alone were missing. Jerry and
Danny had been united in their desire to have near them during the
ceremony those who had ever been, and would ever be, to them, their
nearest, and dearest.
Followed the breathless hush which invariably precedes the momentous
interval between the cessation of the wedding march and the beginning of
the sacred ceremony of marriage. Followed the minister’s deep, resonant
enunciation of “Dearly beloved,” as he took up the solemn words of the
ceremony.
Marjorie alone heard Hal’s “Dearest,” murmured in her ear as one of his
hands closed tenderly over her slim fingers. She returned the fervent
pressure, a quick mist of tears blurring her eyes. Hal had put an
infinity of meaning into that one murmured word of endearment, given to
her alone to understand.
“My own dear wife,” Danny was saying to Jerry as he kissed her with a
smile which Jerry ever after fondly cherished as the most beautiful
smile she had ever seen on a man’s face.
A moment more, and she was receiving the congratulatory embraces of her
father and mother. Next Hal kissed her, then passed her on to Marjorie.
The smiling group of dear ones now hemmed the bridal pair in, eager to
wish them good fortune.
Jerry and Connie met with wide-open arms, hugging each other with
delighted vigor.
“You certainly put one over on me, you rascal!” Jerry exclaimed with
slangy disregard for her newly-fledged title of Mrs. Daniel Seabrooke.
“Oh, Connie, you can’t possibly guess how glad I felt to hear your dear
voice singing the wedding song! I wanted to rush downstairs, then and
there, and hug you. We’d given up hoping you and Laurie might be here at
the wedding, and Danny was awfully blue about it. He had counted on Hal
and Laurie and the ‘Crane’ as his special standbys.”
“I had no idea you esteemed me so highly, Dan-yell.” Laurie’s laughing
voice broke in. He had fixed mischievous blue eyes upon Danny, face
alight with the old love of teasing which had never yet failed to draw
his freckled-faced pal into good-natured argument.
Danny’s becomingly serious expression had now vanished in a challenging
grin. He could not resist the joy of a verbal tilt with Laurie.
“You know it now, but don’t let it turn your head,” he cautioned.
“Absence caused me to think kindly of you. Now that you are here, my
future good opinion of you will depend entirely upon the way you treat
me. As a bran-new, extremely well-behaved husband I am entitled to your
profound respect. As yet I see no flourishing signs of it in your manner
toward me. I shall hope for the best, however,” he ended with mock
encouragement.
“Here’s hoping.” Laurie showed white teeth in a broad smile.
“Matters look far from hopeful to me. Never mind, Mr. Armitage. Your
wife at least respects me. Such being the case, I will overlook your
decidedly disrespectful grin.”
“How about the one you’re sporting?” Laurie affably inquired.
“You must be seeing things.” Danny whisked the smile from his face in a
twinkling, gazing at Laurie with wide-eyed solemnity.
“I see marriage hasn’t changed you,” Laurie retorted.
“It’s too early in the game to pass an opinion. A wise man would never
do it,” Danny made reproving reply.
Thereupon both young men burst into laughter and wrung each other’s
hands all over again.
“Believe me, I’m glad to have a grip on that good old hand,” Danny said
seriously as he gave Laurie’s hand a final shake.
“Same here,” Laurie made warm response.
Further friendly exchange of pertinent pleasantries between them was cut
short by the congratulatory demands upon Danny’s attention. Laurie and
Connie also came in for a rush of cordial greeting from numerous old
friends present at the wedding.
As a pretty courtesy to the guests, Reba and Nella, the little flower
girls now circulated among them, giving them the roses from their
baskets. There was to be a wedding supper in a huge tent that had been
put up on the lawn, and also dancing in the ball room. Jerry and Danny
would not leave on their wedding trip until after midnight in time to
board a one-o’clock train that was to take them to the Adirondacks,
where they had elected to spend their honeymoon in Hal’s camp.
“I’m going to have my wedding party just like the parties Hal and I used
to give,” Jerry had said. “The minute the ceremony’s over—good-bye
formality. Danny and I have arranged to go away on a late train,
purposely, so that we can stay a while with the crowd and have a dandy
good time.”
The first animated rush of congratulation having spent itself, Jerry and
Danny separated briefly. Danny’s three Sanford pals had claimed him for
their own for a few merry minutes of conversation. Jerry had a mission
of her own to perform in which her bridesmaids were buoyantly
interested. Each was hopeful that she might be the one to catch the
bridal bouquet which Jerry was presently to throw among them.
Jerry-like she was now laughingly refusing to tell her watchful
attendants just when, and from what point, she intended to cast the
flowery token among them.
“Follow me, and see what happens,” she teased as she began a slow walk
down the salon, and toward the reception hall, surrounded by a laughing,
expostulating seven.
“Don’t worry. You couldn’t lose us if you tried,” Helen Trent assured
the bride.
“You ought to give Robin and me a special tip-off, Jeremiah. What chance
have we against five tall, long-armed ladies?” Vera complained
plaintively.
“Pay no attention to Midget,” counseled Leila. “What she lacks in height
she makes up in quickness. If she does not snap up the bouquet from
under our very noses it will not be for lack of trying.”
“It’s sportsmanlike to try out this grab game, but if it means ‘Leslie,
you’ll be married next,’ then I hope I miss,” Leslie confided to Leila
in an undertone. “I’ve contracted to keep house for Peter the Great for
the next few years, so that lets me out,” she averred with her slow
smile.
“I am fondling no hopes in that direction, either,” Leila murmured. “My
ideal is a nice, white-haired old gentleman who will defer to me on all
occasions; one who will enjoy being unmercifully bossed.” She rolled her
blue eyes drolly at Leslie, who giggled softly.
“When you find him, don’t forget to invite me to your wedding,” she
stipulated.
“You shall be my maid of honor,” Leila made affable promise. “By then,
we shall be old and gray, I am afraid, and be wearing bonnets and
spectacles.”
Jerry and her alert following had now reached the foot of the grand
stairway. She set one slim, satin-shod foot upon the first step of the
staircase as though about to begin the ascent of the stairs. Then she
suddenly whirled about and tossed her bridal bouquet high in the air,
well above the heads of the eager group of girls. A wild scramble for it
ensued, accompanied by excited feminine cries. An instant, and a shout
of gay laughter ascended from the animated group. Came a merry chorus
of: “Leila’s going to be married next. Leila’s going to be married
next.”
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