A JULY WEDDING
PEGGY'S brother Dick had parodied an old rhyme to fit the occasion and
sang it with gusto, in season and out of season. It was Dick's voice,
caroling in a high falsetto, and breaking ludicrously on an average of
once a line, that woke Peggy on the most eventful morning of her life.
"A wedding day in May
Is worth a load of hay.
A wedding set for June
Is worth a silver spoon.
A wedding in July
Isn't worth a fly."
Peggy winked hard and sat up in bed, turning instantly toward the east
windows. "Oh," she cried joyously, "what a glorious day!" And so indeed
it was. Apparently the weather man had carefully selected whatever was
best in all the year, and combined his selections into one perfect day
in honor of Peggy's wedding. There had been a little rain the night
before, and the air was as sweet as if perfumed by June's roses. There
was a freshness that suggested early spring, and something in the
breeze as exhilarating as October. Peggy reflected complacently that
this was just her luck.
She wondered, as she dressed, what she was to do with herself between
the hours of eight and six. Her trunk was packed for going away, and
the other trunks were ready except for a few articles to be added at
the last minute. She had acknowledged every gift she had received. The
dressmaker was through with her, and the wedding dress was hanging
in Peggy's closet, with a sheet draped over it that no speck of dust
should mar its immaculate whiteness. Peggy decided that her wedding day
was to be characterized by elegant leisure.
Of course this expectation was not realized. To begin with, there were
more presents. They came by parcels post and by express. Deliverymen
handed them over as nonchalantly as if they had been ordinary
purchases. Others came by special messengers, who grinned knowingly
when Peggy signed for them. Breakfast was hardly over when it was
necessary to send for Graham, that he might assist in opening the
packages. But Graham was not as satisfactory in opening packages as a
number of other people, Priscilla and Amy, for instance. If Peggy cried
"Isn't that beautiful?" he always looked straight at her as he said
"yes," and then it was necessary to remind him that he was supposed to
be admiring a piece of silverware or glass. Peggy always said, "How
beautiful!" when a package was opened. And then if the article were
something she really wanted, she would add, "Isn't it lucky, Graham,
that some one thought of that? I don't see how we could have kept house
without it." And if it were something quite unsuitable she would cry,
"How kind everybody is. I never saw anything like it."
The present from Peggy's college class came the morning of the wedding
day, when it was practically certain that no one was to be married
in advance of Peggy. It was a very attractive silver vase, with the
class motto engraved about its base. Peggy's delight was marred by one
characteristic reflection. "I have so many things. It's almost a pity
this didn't go to some girl whose friends weren't so generous."
"Any one could have had it," Graham reminded her, "who was ready
to take the risk. This is in recognition of your courage, like the
Victoria Cross."
Of course the wedding presents were not going to South America, but
were to be stored against the young people's return. "Don't you hate
to go away and leave all these lovely things, Graham?" Peggy asked,
stroking the gleaming sides of a copper bowl as if it had been a
kitten. And then with her usual happy faculty for seeing the bright
side, she added, "But think of coming home and finding them waiting for
us! Why, it'll be like getting married all over again."
Wedding presents, however, were not to occupy Peggy's thoughts to the
exclusion of other matters. All sorts of affectionate messages kept
coming, special deliveries, telegrams, telephone calls. A girl like
Peggy, who for twenty-one years and over has been helping to make the
world a happier place, is likely to be surprised when she comes to
count up her friends. Elaine Marshall, who had moved from the city and
now lived with her married sister, came down for the day. "I couldn't
stand it, not to be at your wedding, Peggy," she declared. And Lucy
Haines walked in about noon, looking so radiant that Peggy at once
suspected an especial reason. There was a little pearl ring on the
third finger of Lucy's left hand that Peggy had never seen before. Lucy
blushed when she saw Peggy's contemplative gaze focused on it.
"Yes, Peggy, it's--it's Jerry," owned Lucy, looking so proud and happy
that she did not seem even distantly related to the disheartened girl
who had once thought it was no use trying. "He's grown into such a
splendid fellow. Everybody says I'm so lucky. And, Peggy, if it hadn't
been for the summer you spent at Doolittle Cottage, it's not likely
that either of us would ever have amounted to anything."
Mary Donaldson called up to say that she was coming to the wedding.
Her father and cousin had promised to carry her downstairs, and they
were going early so she could be in her place before any one else
arrived. "I don't believe you're a bit more excited than I am, Peggy,"
Mary laughed. And another surprise was when Uncle Philander and his
wife drove into town, with a bushel or two of flowers piled about them
in the buggy.
"They're not such awful stylish flowers," beamed Aunt Phoebe. "Of
course there's a few roses, but most of our bushes bloomed themselves
'most to death in June and haven't done much since. The rest are just
everyday posies, so to speak, but they'll make little bright spots
around the house, and anyway, you can't have too many flowers at a
wedding."
At four o'clock the bridesmaids went home to dress. The mother of the
flower girl pounced on her and carried her upstairs.
"Peggy, dear," said Mrs. Raymond warningly.
"Just a minute mother. I want to tell Graham something." Peggy led her
lover into a corner and whispered in his ear, "Don't you want to come
back and get a glimpse of me after I'm dressed."
"Well rather."
"Because you know, if you don't like me," dimpled Peggy, "it's not too
late to change your mind." She was inclined to be reproachful when
Graham caught her in his arms and kissed her before everybody, but
Graham insisted it was her own fault, and on reflection Peggy decided
he was right.
At six o'clock the little church was well filled. In spite of Graham's
teasing, Peggy's humble friends could hardly be distinguished from
their so-called betters. Hildegarde Carey, slender and elegant, sat in
the pew behind Elvira Bond, and noticed nothing peculiar except that
Elvira blew her nose oftener and with more emphasis than is customary
on such occasions. It was either that or weep, and Elvira chose the
least of the two evils. As for Jimmy Dunn, with his purple necktie and
a large scarfpin that resembled a diamond, he was fairly resplendent.
The march pealed out and the people rose. Up the aisle came the
bridesmaids walking very slowly. The little flower girl, all smiles,
seemed as unconscious as if weddings were an old story in her
experience. And then came Peggy on her father's arm, and Elvira Bond
was not the only one whose eyes brimmed over as she passed.
A great deal can happen in five minutes. The organ pealed out again,
and now Peggy was Mrs. Graham Wylie. She put her hand on her husband's
arm and smiled up into his face, Peggy's own sunny smile. She had
promised for better or for worse, but in her heart of hearts she was
confident that the future held only good for the two of them. And as
Graham was equally positive on that score, they went down the aisle
with illumined faces.
Only a few besides the two families came to the house from the church.
These, with the out-of-town guests like Elaine and Lucy, and the
wedding party, filled the cosy little house to overflowing. Mary
Donaldson sat in a corner, radiant; and since she could not cross the
room to kiss the bride, the bride crossed to kiss her.
It was after the chicken salad had been disposed of, and they were
passing the ice cream, that Peggy's attention focussed itself on her
new friend, Mr. Kennedy. He stood by himself for the moment and his
face was rather grave for a young man, a guest at a wedding. But as he
caught her eye, he smiled resolutely and came over to her.
"I'm sorry you're going away, Mrs. Wylie, just as I met you. It doesn't
seem fair."
"I'm sorry, too," said Peggy. "If we'd only known that night at
the Green Parrot that you were a friend of Graham's it would have
simplified matters so much."
Mr. Kennedy's face again lost its smile. He turned and looked the
company over. "Your friend Hitchcock isn't here to-night, is he?"
Peggy was delighted. She had been wishing for a chance to bring Horace
into the conversation, and here Mr. Kennedy had done it himself. When
again the young man looked at her, he was almost startled by the
radiant mischief of her face.
"Horace Hitchcock here? Oh, dear, no! I can't think of anybody I'd be
less likely to ask to my wedding."
"That's one point, evidently, on which you and Miss Combs are not in
agreement."
Peggy pondered. "Priscilla might ask him to her wedding. I don't know.
But it's certain he didn't ask _her_ to _his_."
Young Mr. Kennedy's start was unmistakable. "You don't mean he's
married?"
"Yes indeed. There was quite an account of it in the papers. But if you
didn't know his name, you wouldn't remember."
"No, I wouldn't remember," agreed Mr. Kennedy. All at once he was
beaming. "I shall be glad when the next two years are up, Mrs. Wylie,"
he cried boyishly. "I have a hunch that you and I are going to be great
friends."
A moment later he joined Priscilla, and from that time on followed her
about like her shadow, and the observant Peggy smiled approval. She was
not in the least discomfited by Graham's reference to high explosives.
The most dangerous things in the world, in her estimation, were
misunderstandings.
At ten o'clock the bride went upstairs to change to her little
going-away suit with the Eton Jacket, that made her look hardly older
than the Peggy Raymond who entered college. And then the good-bys
began. "We'll be back in a few days," said Peggy as she kissed each
one, but even that assurance failed to give comfort. For though Peggy
and Graham were coming back for twenty-four hours, they were to sail on
the sixth. Peggy's friends returned her smiles bravely, but there was
hardly one who did not struggle to keep back the tears.
They crowded out on the porch to see her go. Some one hurled an old
shoe as the taxi-cab glided away. Peggy leaned from the window to wave
her hand, and then the darkness swallowed her up.
Amy, Ruth, and Priscilla stood side by side. The tears were running
down Ruth's cheeks, and Priscilla's eyes were wet. Amy had forced
herself to smile during Peggy's protracted leave-taking and the smile
persisted, though it had become a grimace.
"Is this place called Friendly Terrace?" Amy demanded tragically, "Or
is it the--the Dismal Swamp."
"Or the desert of Sahara," suggested Priscilla, a quaver in her voice
showing that the suggestion was not altogether a joke.
"Girls!" for a moment Ruth struggled with a sob, but she conquered it
and went on resolutely, "I don't know who named Friendly Terrace, but
I do know it was Peggy who made the name fit. And we've got to keep it
up. We can't let it become like other little streets where nobody cares
for his neighbor. We've got to show what Peggy meant to us by--by--"
"By keeping the home fires burning," interpolated Amy, and Ruth nodded
as if the familiar phrase said all she had wished to say.
As the others crowded indoors, declaring after immemorial fashion that
there had never been a prettier wedding nor a lovelier bride, Peggy's
three friends stood side by side; Ruth's hand was fast in Amy's, and
Amy's arm was about Priscilla's waist. And while none of them spoke,
each of them in her heart was silently pledging herself to keep
Friendly Terrace what Peggy had made it.
THE END
MARK GRAY'S HERITAGE
A Romance
_By Eliot Harlow Robinson_
_Author of "Smiles: A Rose of the Cumberlands," "Smiling Pass," "The
Maid of Mirabelle," etc._
_Cloth, 12mo, illustrated, $1.90_
"_What is bred in the bone will never come out of the flesh._"
MR. ROBINSON'S distinguished success came with the acclaim accredited
to his novel, SMILES, "_The Best-Loved Book of the Year_," and its
sequel, SMILING PASS. With delicate humor and a sincere faith in the
beautiful side of human nature, Mr. Robinson has created for himself
a host of enthusiastic admirers. In his new book he chooses a theme,
suggested perhaps by the old proverb quoted above ("Pilpay's Fables").
His setting is a Quaker village, his theme the conflict between grave
Quaker ideals and the strength and hot blood of impulsive Mark Gray.
Here is a book that is worthy of the reception accorded SMILES by
all readers who appreciate a story of deep significance, simply yet
powerfully built upon fundamental passions, wrought with a philosophy
that always sees the best in troubled times.
The enthusiastic editor who passed on MARK GRAY'S HERITAGE calls
it--hardly too emphatically--"A mighty good story with plenty of
entertainment for those who like action (there is more of that in it
than in any other of Mr. Robinson's novels). The reading public will
unquestionably call it another 'courage book'--which they called the
SMILES books, you know. The language is both strong and smooth. The
story has a punch!"
POLLY THE PAGAN
Her Lost Love Letters
_By Isabel Anderson_
_With an appreciative Foreword by Basil King_
_Cloth decorative, 12mo, illustrated, $1.90_
ISABEL ANDERSON, who heretofore has confined her literary talents to
writing of presidents and diplomats and fascinating foreign lands,
contributes to our list her first novel, POLLY THE PAGAN, a story of
European life and "high society." The story is unfolded in the lively
letters of a gay and vivacious American girl traveling in Europe,
and tells of the men whom she meets in Paris, in London or Rome, her
flirtations (and they are many and varied!) and exciting experiences.
Among the letters written to her are slangy ones from an American
college boy and some in broken English from a fascinated Russian Prince
(or was he disillusioned, when after dining at a smart Parisian café
with the adorable Polly he was trapped by secret police?); but the
chief interest, so far as Polly's _affaires d'amour_ are concerned,
centers around the letters from a young American, in the diplomatic
service in Rome, who is in a position to give intimate descriptions of
smart life and Italian society.
* * * * *
The character drawing is clever, and the suspense as to whom the
fascinating Polly will marry, if indeed the mysterious young lady will
marry anybody, is admirably sustained.
UNCLE MARY
A Novel for Young or Old
_By Isla May Mullins_
_Author of "The Blossom Shop" books, "Tweedie," etc._
_Cloth decorative, 12mo, illustrated, $1.75_
SINCE the great success of POLLYANNA there have been many efforts to
achieve the "_GLAD_ BOOK" style of fiction, but none so successful
Trade Mark
as Mrs. Mullins' UNCLE MARY.
Here is a story, charming in its New England village setting, endearing
in its characters, engrossing in its plot, and diverting in its
style. The PAGE imprint has been given to many books about beautiful
characters in fiction,--Pollyanna, Anne Shirley, Rose Webb of "SMILES,"
and Lloyd Sherman of the "LITTLE COLONEL" books. To this galaxy we now
add "Uncle" Mary's protégé, Libbie Lee.
Mrs. Mullins is an author gifted with the ability to appeal to the
young in heart of whatever age. Her characters are visually portrayed.
Her situations have the interest of naturalness and suspense. The
reader of UNCLE MARY will become in spirit an inhabitant of Sunfield;
will understand the enjoyment of the sudden acquisition of wealth, a
limousine, and--an adopted child (!), by the sisters, "Uncle" Mary and
"Aunt" Alice; will watch with interest the thawing and rejuvenation of
"Uncle" Mary, the cure of Alice, and the solving of the mystery of the
wealth of sweet little Libbie Lee.
THE RED CAVALIER
Or, The Twin Turrets Mystery
_By Gladys Edson Locke_
_Cloth decorative, 12mo, illustrated, $1.90_
HERE is a mystery story that is different! The subtlety and strangeness
of India--poison and daggers, the impassive faces and fierce hearts
of Prince Bardai and his priestly adviser; a typical English week-end
house party in the mystery-haunted castle, Twin Turrets, in Yorkshire;
a vivid and contrasting background.
And the plot! Who is the mysterious Red Cavalier? Is he the ghost of
the ancestral portrait, that hangs in Sir Robert Grainger's strange
library? Is he flesh and blood, and responsible for the marauding
thefts in the neighborhood? Is he responsible for Prince Kassim's
murder? Or is it only coincidence that one of the guests at the masked
ball happened to wear the costume of the Red Cavalier?
Miss Locke has been able to weave a weird and absorbing tale of modern
detective romance, the strangeness of India in modern England.
There is Lady Berenice Coningsby, a bit _déclassé_; Ethelyn Roydon,
more so; Princess Lona Bardai, "Little Lotus-Blossom," sweet and
pathetic; Mrs. Dalrymple, the woman of mystery; Miss Vandelia Egerton,
the spinster owner of Twin Turrets. There is dashing Max Egerton and
the impeccable Lord Borrowdean; Captain Grenville Coningsby; Prince
Kassim Bardai, with the impenetrable eyes, and Chand Talsdad, his
venerable adviser. Which of them is the Red Cavalier?
* * * * *
Transcriber's Notes:
Obvious punctuation errors repaired while varied hyphenation has been
retained.
Page 11, "asumed" changed to "assumed" (assumed that they had)
Page 75, the ligature was removed from "Phoebe" to conform to the
numerous uses without it (turned to Aunt Phoebe's)
Page 115, "epigramatic" changed to "epigrammatic" (epigrammatic phrases
which)
Page 172, "your're" changed to "you're" (what you're looking for)
Page 180, "Rob" changed to "Bob" (absorbed by what Bob)
Page 184, "publicity" changed to "publicly" (publicly that she was)
Page 184, "incomprehensiblely" changed to "incomprehensibly"
(incomprehensibly petty)
Page 186, repeated word "the" removed from text. Original read (how
much . was the the result of)
Page 199, "upstair" changed to "upstairs" (upstairs Ruth? It's)
Page 205, "fiinished" changed to "finished" (After she had finished)
Page 207, "tumultous" changed to "tumultuous" (tumultuous cheering, the)
Page 210, "forseen" changed to "foreseen" (have foreseen this)
Page 238, repeated word "to" removed from text. Original read (four to
to get engaged)
Page 261, "rudness" changed to "rudeness" (The rudeness gave Peggy)
Page 262, "af" changed to "of" (losing two of her)
Page 271, "spare" changed to "space" (vacant space enclosed by)
Page 272, "attenion" changed to "attention" (Priscilla every attention)
Page 279, "emphazie" changed to "emphasize" (to emphasize the fact)
Page 301, "There" changed to "Three" (Three blocks on Rossiter)
End of Project Gutenberg's Peggy Raymond's Way, by Harriet Lummis Smith