always plunges the world into profound gloom; secondly, Rollo was by
nature inclined to be rather bilious; and thirdly,--well,--I shall
wait before I tell you the third reason and perhaps you may divine it
for yourselves, and will not that be fun!
"Great news, Rollo," cried his mother, brightly but not so loudly as
to be unladylike, "great news! Your Uncle George is to be married and
to whom do you think?"
Rollo thought of several of the gay ladies whom he had met during his
evening parties with Uncle George, but, having lived in the city now
for nearly a half-year, he had learned that it is not best to express
one's thoughts too frankly at all times, and therefore answered, "To
whom, Mother? I am sure I cannot guess."
"Why, to Anabelle's mother," was the reply. "Her first husband was a
very wicked man, and Anabelle's mother was forced to leave him. She
has just returned from visiting her folks in Reno, Nevada. The wedding
is to be in her apartment on Park Avenue, and your Uncle writes to say
that he hopes that you and Anabelle will be page and flower-girl on
that occasion. Anabelle is to be allowed to come home from school for
the great event."
At these glad tidings, Rollo's depression vanished in a trice. All
thought of dying was swept away by the realization that he was soon to
see Anabelle again! And now perhaps you have some idea of what the
third reason for his low spirits had been.
From that time on, events moved at a rapid pace, each more exciting
than the last. First came the Bachelor Dinner, one of the strangest
meals which Rollo had ever attended. Rollo's father did not approve of
Uncle George's marriage, though when he learned that Anabelle's mother
was very wealthy he said, "Well, I shall voice no objection. George
has made his bed; let him lie in it."
Rollo thought this a coarse remark, but kept silent as his father
continued, "As for this Bachelor Dinner, I do not approve of Rollo's
attendance."
"But there are to be handsome gifts," said Rollo's mother. "George
informs me that everyone at the table is to receive a jewelled
scarf pin, a splendid cravat, and a pair of gloves."
"I do not wish to offend George," said Rollo's father. "The boy may as
well go, but let him surely be home by nine o'clock. Do you remember
what my glove size is, Mother?"
[Illustration: "Gentlemen, with your kind permission I will read a
poem"]
And so it was arranged.
It was, as I say, the strangest dinner Rollo had ever attended. It was
served in a private room of the handsome edifice owned by Mr. Ritz,
and the menu or bill-of-fare was most elaborate, consisting of
beautiful, ornamental dishes which were whisked before Rollo's eyes in
rapid succession. Each course was accompanied by a different beverage,
and toward the end the serving gentlemen filled large tumblers with a
most delicious sparkling cider, which Rollo vowed the best he had ever
tasted.
Such fun as they had! The guests were eight in number, with Rollo
making the ninth, and never had he seen such merry companions. Very
few of rare viands were actually eaten, quite an amazing quantity
being spilled, or thrown from one guest to another, and Rollo could
not keep from thinking with some dismay of his bib at home which Lucy
had cross-stitched for him with the words "Waste not, want not." He
was comforted, however, by the assurance of a Mr. Stewart who sat next
him, that the food would be scraped up in the morning and sent to the
starving women of Mesopotamia.
Then the strangest thing happened. The cider-goblets having
been filled, a Mr. Weaver, who was called the best-man, cried
loudly,--"Bottoms up! To the bride." At this shocking remark,
everyone drained his portion of cider and then cast the goblet at
the wall or ceiling or floor so that the handsome Brussels carpet
was covered with broken glass.
"Well, I declare!" thought Rollo, "if Mr. Weaver is the _best_ man, I
wonder what the others are like!" and partly to hide his confusion,
partly to restore order, he rose and said, "Gentlemen, with your kind
permission, I will read a poem."
"'Ray, 'ray," shouted Uncle George, "Squiet, please, squiet."
Then Rollo read as follows:
"O, Hail! O beauteous, blushing bride
Your future will be happy we know,
When you are by your husband's side,
And no more with your folks in Reno.
Your other husband, I've heard say,
Was one in whom affection dwindled,
But Uncle George I'm sure will stay
And tend the fire which he has kindled."
Rollo's poem was a great success and after that a Mr. Bishop and a Mr.
Benchley sang many duets, while the others made speeches, to which
Uncle George replied, sitting on the floor and making gestures over
the edge of the table.
The sun was shining when Rollo reached home and placed his cravat
and gloves at his father's door, keeping the scarf pin for himself,
but the little fellow was delighted to see that it was only half
after seven by the parlour clock, so that he had obeyed his father's
instructions and got home before nine after all.
The next day was the wedding and you may be sure Rollo was up betimes,
after a refreshing sleep of ten minutes. He dressed himself with
particular care, his heart pounding with excitement, for to-day he was
to see Anabelle, who had arrived from her seminary the evening before!
All the family were early astir, and there was much scrubbing and
inspection of finger nails and ears, and rustling of starchy garments,
and at promptly half after eleven, the entire family set forth, except
Jonas, who had gone before in his squeakiest shoes, for he was to
guard the wedding gifts lest some of the guests should steal them.
The apartment was large but the company was larger and, as many had
already arrived, Rollo soon found himself in a dense crowd in which he
could catch no glimpse of Anabelle, but had only a view of the elbows
and waist-lines which were on a level with his eyes. Just as he was
feeling quite faint and stunned from bumping his head against the
gentlemen's hip-pockets, he was rescued by Mr. Stewart and dragged
into a room where the ushers were forming the nuptial procession.
Suddenly, from a veritable forest of rubber-plants, the strains of
Mendelssohn's Wedding March smote the air, the hum of conversation
died down and the lovely bride, preceded by Anabelle, and accompanied
by her aged father in a wheel-chair, moved majestically down an aisle
which Jonas had cleared. Rollo was propelled forward into his place,
and, blushing furiously, marched by Anabelle's side until they reached
the arch of smilax and roses beneath which stood Dr. Ordway, the
minister.
[Illustration: "--What a happy ending it is"]
It was a beautiful sight, the bride in a lovely lavender dress, the
dignified old father and the ushers, their red faces contrasting
handsomely with their white carnations and gray cravats.
But all this was a dream to Rollo, who had eyes only for Anabelle,
bewitchingly fairy-like with her pale-blue dress and basket of
flowers. It made Rollo's head swim to look at her and as the words of
the ceremony came to him indistinctly a vague resolve formed itself in
his mind. At the words "And with all my worldly goods," he thought of
his own possessions and wondered what Anabelle would think of his
knife and of the decorated clam-shell which his Uncle had brought him
from Atlantic City.
"It is not much," thought Rollo, "but one cannot give more than all,
and oh! how beautiful she is----!"
And now they had reached the solemn part of the service where Dr.
Ordway asked if there was anyone present who had any objection to the
wedding. One of the gentlemen coughed rather loudly, but no one said
anything and soon the ceremony was over and everyone was laughing and
talking and congratulating the happy pair.
Then for the first time Rollo had an opportunity to speak to Anabelle
and you may be sure he lost no time in gaining her side. They were
soon chatting merrily.
"Let's eat," said Rollo, for his father had instructed him that he
must be sure to get his luncheon at the wedding.
When they had regaled themselves with the lavish collation, they
joined the grown-up company who were dancing to the soft strains of
three saxophones and a bass drum.
"That was lovely," said Rollo politely when the dance ended,--"but do
you not think the party is getting a little rough?"
"So it is," agreed Anabelle. "Let us sit on the stairs, where we can
see without being seen."
"Yuppy," said Rollo, and soon they were comfortably seated just beyond
the landing with Anabelle quite close to Rollo and her brown eyes
looking up into his blue ones.
Now Rollo did not know it, but sitting on a stairway with a young lady
is an almost certain way of bringing about a proposal. Why this is we
do not know, but so it is, and so it has been since stairs were first
invented.
All things seemed to conspire to bring to the surface a declaration of
Rollo's great love for Anabelle. The wedding had stirred him deeply,
and Anabelle's beauty, the dancing, and now this quiet corner with the
sound of the saxophones softened by the distance.
His hands were very cold and his voice trembled slightly as he said,
with more originality than one would have expected--"Anabelle, I have
something to say to you."
"Yes," said Anabelle.
"Yes," repeated Rollo, "and this is what it is. I should like to marry
you, Anabelle. But for several reasons I may not be able to do so. My
worldly goods, to which Dr. Ordway referred, are of very little value,
and moreover, from something Jonas said to me this morning I fear I
may not be long for this world."
"Oh, Rollo," cried the little girl, and put her hand over his.
"But as I understand it," continued Rollo, "we must first be engaged,
and perhaps we should not take but one step at a time. Shall we be
engaged, Anabelle?"
"Let's," she answered.
"I regret," said Rollo, "that I have no engagement ring, but perhaps
for the present another piece of jewelry will serve."
So saying, he drew from his pocket the scarf pin which Uncle George
had given him.
As he went forward to fasten it in Anabelle's dress she leaned toward
him. It was as if two roses had been brought together by a breeze
straying through a garden. Through Rollo's heart spread a shivering
thrill which carried no presentiment of an untimely end, but a
feeling that he should live forever.
"Oh, Anabelle," he whispered through her hair. "This must be the
ending which Jonas prophesied--but what a happy ending it is!"
"It is only the beginning," said Anabelle weeping.
TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE:
Minor changes have been made to correct typesetters' errors; otherwise,
every effort has been made to remain true to the author's words and
intent.