beautiful home, for it was Frances who had the naming of the guests, and
she chose to have their friends of the winter. There was the Spectacle
Man, of course, and Emma and Gladys and Miss Moore,--it was too bad Mark
couldn't get home in time,--and Mrs. Gray, because she was the beginning
of it all, and Frances was fond of her. This was the party, with their
own family and the bride and groom.
Caroline said that if Mrs. Richards had been going to entertain the
Queen and the President together, she couldn't have been more particular
about everything, and indeed she spared no trouble or expense.
The table was exquisite in its bridal decorations of lilies of the
valley, and the whole house was fragrant with flowers; the guests all
looked their best, and it was throughout a most festive and happy
occasion.
Frances fluttered about in her great-grandmother's dress, evidently
considering it her party; the Spectacle Man beamed on everybody; and old
Mrs. Gray, in a new silk gown, looked on in quiet enjoyment. Miss Moore
was, if possible, merrier than usual, but this may have been because she
was trying not to think how far away Lillian was going.
When the supper was over and the healths of the bride and groom had been
drank, "The Story of the Missing Bridge" was proposed, and the optician
rose to respond.
"It has occurred to me as a somewhat strange thing," he began, "that
seven or eight months ago we, who now feel like old friends, had not
met. In this time we have learned to know one another, and a little
story, which grew out of a foolish old song, has become a bond between
us,--something we shall carry with us wherever we go. We have learned
lessons of courage and cheer; some of us have found bridges over our
difficulties and troubles where we had supposed there were none; and I
can at least say for myself that hereafter, into whatever perplexities I
may fall, I shall remember the lesson of the story, that there is always
a way, and love and courage can find it."
He sat down amid applause, and Frances said, "I am going to remember it,
too, for I did find a way when Gladys and I quarrelled."
"I can add my testimony that ways open in the most unpromising places,"
put in her father.
"Perhaps if I had heard the story sooner my broken bridge would have
been mended long ago," said Mrs. Richards.
"It is wonderful," Mrs. Gray took courage to say, "how things turn out
sometimes. I feel like telling everybody how sweet and kind my new
daughter is. She really seems fond of me already, and I was so dreadful
afraid of her."
"When we look back we can't help seeing that we have been guided by a
higher Power, who could see the path that was dark to us," Mrs. Morrison
said softly; and the Spectacle Man added, "That's true."
"Every one knows how much I owe to the story," Mr. Carter began, but
Lillian blushed and shook her head at him.
"I am too commonplace to have interesting experiences," Miss Moore
announced, "so, as I haven't anything to relate, with Mr. Clark's
permission I'll read a poem;" and thereupon she read the verses she had
found in the hall.
The Spectacle Man was quite embarrassed, and insisted that he was not in
the habit of dropping into verse, and that this had not been intended
for the public.
"I want them, Mr. Clark, for the book I mean to write when I have time,
about our winter at your house," Miss Sherwin said.
"Are you really going to do that, Miss Sherwin? How lovely!" cried
Frances. "And you must begin with Mrs. Gray's glasses, and put Emma and
Gladys and me in,--and Peterkin."
Lillian laughed, and promised that when the story was written they
should all be in.
The next morning was as beautiful as if it had been ordered for the
occasion, and the small number of persons gathered in the church saw a
charming bride, who seemed with her golden hair and her shimmering gown
of soft green tones, to be herself a part of the springtime.
She walked up the aisle with her maid of honor, Miss Moore, preceded by
Frances and Emma in a state of unutterable bliss, while Gladys looked on
from a front pew. Mr. Clark gave the bride away, and nothing happened
to mar the simple and beautiful ceremony.
When Mr. and Mrs. Carter had driven off in a shower of rice the
Spectacle Man returned to his shop and began that very afternoon to pack
up. As he worked he sang cheerily:--
"The ducks and the geese they all swim over,
Fol de rol de ri do, fol de rol de ri do,
The ducks and the geese they all swim over,
Fol de rol de ri."