The Wedding
The next morning David called for Polly on his way to school, and
the two went off together, the children waving good-byes from the
windows. They returned, at noon, in love with their teachers, in
love with the scholars, in love with their new books and all
pertaining to the school. Such funny, interesting things had
happened, and Polly told about them all dinner time.
Leonora watched her two friends go back in the afternoon, feeling
a little sad. If only she could go, too! But she was growing
well and strong; Dr. Dudley had assured her that she would soon be
able to run about like other girls. The sadness, after all, ended
in a long breath of joy.
The weeks before the secret came out where very happy weeks for
Polly. Only a ew days after her visit to Mrs. Jocelyn came a
package, a large, flat, nearly square package. It arrived while
she was at school, and she found the children eyeing it curiously
as it lay on Miss Lucy's desk.
"It's for you," announced Stella, "and she said there must n't
anybody touch it. She would n't open it herself."
Polly looked at the white parcel, and wondered, too. She had been
expecting photographs; but this was too big for those, she
decided. Hastily she untied the string. Miss Lucy came in just
as she turned back the wrapper.
"O-h!"
"Why, Polly May, you've gone and had your picture taken!"
"My! Ain't it splendid?"
"Whew! Bet that cost somethin'!"
Miss Lucy caught a glimpse of the photograph, which brought her
quickly across the room.
"Polly dear, what a surprise this is!"
"I don't think it looks much like me," murmured the little girl,
staring wonderingly and the beautiful picture.
It was of large size, exquisitely finished in carbon, and mounted
in a handsome folder.
"Why, it looks exactly like her! Don't it, Miss Lucy?" queried
Mabel.
"I think I never saw a better likeness," smiled the nurse.
"There!" exulted Mabel. "Say, what made you think it did n't?"
But Polly only laughed a little uncertainly. "Never mind, if you
like it!" she told them.
"Oh, here's another kind!" piped Stella, whose curious fingers
had discovered a photograph showing Polly in a different pose.
This was full-length; the other was only head and shoulders.
"There's one more, I think," said Polly, "where I had some
flowers in my hand."
A hunt soon revealed it,--"the very sweetest of all!" Leonora
declared.
The girls hung over it rapturously.
"Will you give me one?" begged Mabel.
"And me"--"And me?"--"And me?" chorused the others.
"Polly cannot tell right off just what she will be able to do,"
interposed Miss Lucy. "Dr. Dudley has n't seen them yet. Suppose
you run down and show them to him, Polly."
Down the stairs skipped Polly, glad to get away from the too eager
children.
The Doctor received them delightedly. Polly watched him with
thoughtful eyes.
"Do you think they look like me?" she ventured at last.
"Very much," he answered, smiling at the anxious pucker between
Polly's eyebrows. "What is the trouble?"
The pink in her cheeks deepened to crimson. "I am not--so
pretty as that," she faltered. "You know I'm not. And I hate to
give away such pictures. It seems as if folks would think I
wanted to make out I looked better than I really do."
Dr. Dudley's eyes were bent to the photograph in hand. He thought
hard and fast. Should he tell her the truth,--that the
beautiful black-and-white print, with all its exquisite softness,
scarcely did justice to the delicate mobile face?
"I wanted you and Miss Lucy to have one," she went on, "and
Colonel Gresham, and David, and High Price, and Leonora, and
Cornelius--for he was so good to get my locket back. Then
the rest of them--there are a dozen--I thought I'd give to
anybody that wanted one; but now--" she halted appealingly.
"Well, if I were you, Thistledown," and the Doctor threw his arm
in a comradely way across the slim shoulders, "I should go
straight along and give my pictures to those for whom I had
intended them, with no thought about any lack of resemblance. You
sat for the photographs, and you are not to blame for any possible
mistake the camera may have made; so don't let it bother you."
She gave a little gleeful chuckle. "It is the camera's fault, is
n't it? I never thought of that. Well, if you think it's all
right to give them away, it must be; but it did n't seem quite--
hones, you know." She looked up still a bit anxious.
The Doctor smoothed away the tiny wrinkle on her forehead, and
smiled down into the clear brown eyes.
"It is perfectly right, Polly; in fact, it would be wrong to
spoil so much pleasure for such a little reason. The pictures are
far more lifelike than most people's are, and nobody will stop to
compare them with the original, feature by feature."
"No, I guess they won't," she laughed. "You pick out the one you
want to keep, and next I'll let Miss Lucy choose."
Dr. Dudley watched her, as she danced away happily up the stairs.
The he studied the photograph before him, doing exactly what he
had assured her that no one would think of doing; but his final
judgment, like his first intuition, was not in favor of the print.
The simplest of church weddings had been planned by the two most
closely concerned, for neither had other home than the hospital;
but Mrs. Jocelyn overthrew plans and arguments together.
"What is my big house good for," she demanded, "if it cannot be
useful at a time like this? You shall come and make it merry once
more in its old life!"
She ended by carrying off Miss Lucy for a whole week before the
appointed day, and the hospital had to hustle another nurse into
the ward which was both sorrowful and glad.
That was a week of happy upsetting for the stately old mansion.
Carpenters, electricians, florists, and tradespeople of various
classes, all joined in the joyous whirl. Dr. Dudley and Polly
whizzed back and forth in the automobile, and the dignified grays
were kept trotting to and from the house at all hours of the day
and evening.
It had been early arranged for Polly and Leonora to remain with
Mrs. Jocelyn for the two weeks that the Doctor and his wife were
to be away on their wedding journey, and the little lame girl, who
now had only the tiniest limp, was in alternate rapture and
dismay.
"To think" she would exclaim, squeezing Polly ecstatically, "of
_me_ being in that splendid house, with you and that beautiful
Mrs. Jocelyn for fourteen whole days! But, oh, mercy!" she would
cry, "I'm dreadfully afraid she'll not want me so long! I shall
be sure to say or do something wrong! I'm not used to grand folks
like her;" and joy would end with a sigh.
Thin it was Polly's part to reassure her with laughing words,
until the delight would come back to crowd out all fears.
One large room in the house on Edgewood Avenue had been reserved
for the wedding presents, and, although Miss Lucy had jestingly
remarked that a little hall chamber was more than would be needed,
the apartment was packed with love tokens long in advance of the
day. Both the nurse and the physician had won many friends in
their years of hospital service, and now all seemed anxious to
show honor to these two who had helped to add length and comfort
to their lives.
One morning, just before starting for Mrs. Jocelyn's, Dr. Dudley
read this note to Polly:--
My Dear Doctor,--
I have been wondering, ever since I heard
Your good news, how Polly was going to ride,
Inasmuch as two fill your runabout. I have
Too much consideration for the lady who will
Sit by your side to wish her always to bear
The burden of Polly's weight; so I have ordered
for you a car that will seat five without
crowding. There is a place ready for it in my
carriage house. That won't be far for you to
come, and it will be handier for me whenever
Lone Star goes lame.
Your sincere friend,
GRESHAM.
Lucky for me I happened to think of this,
For it would get on my nerves to see Polly
Hanging on behind every time you and Mrs.
Dudley went to ride.
D. G.
"What a funny man!": laughed Polly. "You'd think Lone Star went
lame about once a week! But is n't that a lovelicious present--
a big auto!--my!"
"It is too much." Dr. Dudley shook his head gravely.
"Why, he loves to do it for you," argued Polly. "Besides, it is
not just for you," she chuckled; "it is so he won't have to see
me sitting is Miss Lucy's lap or 'hanging on behind'! Would n't
that look funny?"
The Doctor laughed, and put the note in his pocket.
At Mrs. Jocelyn's, Miss Lucy met them at the entrance.
"I'm so glad you've come," she cried. "I was wishing you would,
to see what Colonel Gresham has sent me."
"Why--" began Polly, and then stopped, blushing at having
almost told about the new motor car. That was not hers to speak
of first.
Dr. Dudley sent a swift glance of appreciation in her direction,
and followed Miss Lucy's leading.
"That came for you, Polly, at the same time," she said, handing
the girl a small square package. "A man just brought them."
"For me?" Polly's eyes opened wide. "I'm not going to be
married!"
They laughed, while the young lady displayed her gift, a necklace
of pearls.
"Oh, is n't that lovely!" exclaimed Polly.
"How sweet you will look I nit! Do put it on!"
But Miss Lucy declared that pearls and gingham dresses were not
companionable, and the necklace was returned to its satin case.
"Why don't you undo your package?" inquired Mrs. Jocelyn.
"Oh, I forgot!" cried Polly, in sudden compunction. "Those
beautiful pearls put everything out of my head."
She soon had the wrappings off, disclosing a small leather case.
"What can it be?" she breathed. "Oh, you darling!" gazing
delightedly at an exquisite little watch. She caressed it with
excited fingers. "Why, there's something engraved in here!" as
the case flew open, and turning to the light, she read aloud:--
To Polly of the Hospital Staff, in remembrance
Of a stormy midnight and a sunshiny morning, from
her devoted lover,
DAVID GRESHAM.
"And here's something more," she went on, scowling in a puzzled
way over the quotation. "It says, 'Blessed are the peacemakers.'
I don't see what that's for, do you?"
The others smiled comprehendingly.
"Why, dearest," explained Mrs. Jocelyn, "you know you brought
the Colonel and his niece together."
"Oh, no, I did n't do it!" protested Polly.
"I wonder who did," the little lady laughed.
Miss Lucy was reading the Colonel's note, which Dr. Dudley had
given her. She ended it with a silent chuckle, and the Doctor
passed it over to Mrs. Jocelyn.
"Just like David!" the little lady declared. "He enjoys a bit of
quiet fun as well as any man I ever knew."
Polly had gone back to her present, hanging over it in delight.
"It is just the right kind of watch for a little girl like you,"
admired the Doctor; "neither too large nor too ornamental."
"It is beautiful!" sighed Polly rapturously. "Is n't Colonel
Gresham nice to give it to me?"
The Doctor smiled an emphatic "Yes," which rejoiced Polly's
heart. She had been afraid he would shake his head, as he had
shaken it over the touring-car. In that case, she reasoned
conscientiously, she should have felt as if she ought to give back
her watch.
It was a six-o'clock wedding. The bridal procession formed at the
foot of the stairs in the spacious hallway, marching its length,
and then proceeding through the east drawing-room to the library,
where the ceremony took place under a canopy of roses. A troop of
children attended the ride, children to whom, as nurse of the
convalescent ward, she had at some time ministered. The girls,
two and two, gowned in silken chiffon of harmonious colors, had
each a basket heaped with blossoms. Polly and Leonora came last
of all, both in delicate pink, from the ribbons that bound their
hair to the tops of their kid slippers, Leonora's black braids in
happy contrast with Polly's fair curls. The boys, clad as pages,
ranged, at regular intervals, on either side of the long line,
carried light arches of vines and flowers, making a fragrant arbor
for the others to walk under.
The brief service over, the flower girls strewed roses in the path
of the bridal pair all the way to the great west drawing-room.
It was like a queen's pageant in a vision of fairyland. The
myriad lights, the gaily dressed children, the lavish profusion of
flowers, the soft music floating from a bank of ferns,--all
united to make the scene unusually dreamlike and beautiful.
As the bride stood to receive her guests, in her simple white silk
gown, the necklace of pearly her only ornament, Polly gazed into
her sweet, thoughtful face, and longed to throw her arms around
her neck and give her a loving hug. But she had to be content
with only one little decorous kiss, and she consoled herself with
the words that had been singing in her heart all the day, "She is
going to be my mother! She is going to be my mother!"
There were many guests, and it was long before the bride and groom
were free from hand-shaking. Polly only caught glimpses now and
then of the two she loved best. She was with a group of merry
children, when she heard her name softly called. Turning, she saw
Dr. Dudley in the doorway. She ran to him, and he led her into
the library, where his bride was talking with Mr. Brewster, the
lawyer.
Mrs. Dudley drew her down beside her on the divan, and Mr.
Brewster soon took leave of them. The Doctor seated himself on her
right.
"This document," he smiled, tapping lightly the paper in his
hand, "makes you legally our own daughter. We have just signed
it, for we wanted everything settled before going away."
With a quick, graceful gesture, Polly wound an arm around each
neck.
"My dear new father and mother," she whispered solemnly, as if
it were a prayer, "I will be just as good, always, as I know how
to be, so you won't ever be sorry you made me your own little
girl!"