WHICH SHOULD HAVE RELATED DETAILS OF A WEDDING
"It's all very, very wonderful, Ann, dear! But then--everything is so
wonderful--just lately!"
"Meanin' what, Hermy?"
Hermione was darning one of Spike's much-mended socks, while Mrs. Trapes
sat drinking tea. "Meanin' jest what is wonderful, my dear, and--since
when?" she persisted.
"Oh--everything, Ann!"
"Yes, you said everything before. S'pose you tell me jest the one thing
as you find so wonderful? An'--why an' wherefore that blush?"
"Oh, Ann--Ann, dear!" Down went sock and needle and, falling on her
knees, Hermione clasped her arms about Mrs. Trapes and hid her glowing
face in her lap. "Ann, dear, I'm so happy!" she sighed--her speech a
little muffled by reason of the voluminous folds of Mrs. Trapes's snowy
apron.
"Happy?" said Mrs. Trapes, setting down her teacup to fondle and stroke
that shapely head, "sich happiness ain't all because of the rent bein'
re-dooced, by order, I reckon--is it?"
"Dear Ann," said Hermione, her face still hidden, "can't you guess?"
"No, my dear," answered Mrs. Trapes, her harsh tones wonderfully soft,
"I don't have to--I guessed days ago. D' ye love him, Hermy?"
"Love him!" repeated Hermione, and said no more, nor did she lift her
bowed head, but feeling the quick, strong pressure of those soft,
embracing arms, the quiver of that girlish body, Mrs. Trapes smiled,
and stooping, kissed Hermione's shining hair.
"When did he speak, my dear?"
"Last Monday, Ann."
"Did he say--much?"
"He asked me to--marry him."
"Spoke of marriage, eh? Did he happen t' mention th' word--wife?"
"Oh, many times, Ann."
"Good f'r him! An' when's it t' be?"
"Oh, Ann, dear, I--I'm afraid it's--to-night!"
"T'night? My land, he's sure some hasty!"
"And so--so masterful, Ann!"
"Well, y' sure need a master. But t'night--land sakes!"
"He wrote and told me he would fix things so he could marry me to-night,
Ann!"
"Then he's sure out fixin' 'em right now. Lord, Hermy, why d' ye
tremble, girl--y' sure love him, don't ye?"
"So much, Ann, so very much--and yet--"
"You ain't scared of him, are ye?"
"No--and yet, I--I think I am--a little."
"But you'll marry him, all the same?"
"Yes."
"An' t'night?"
"Yes. But Ann, dear, when he comes in I want you to keep him with you as
long as you can--will you?"
"Why, sure I'll keep him, jest as long as--he'll let me! Lord, t' think
as my little Hermy'll be a married woman this night!"
"And--oh, Ann, I haven't any--trousseau--"
"Shucks! You don't need none. You're best as you are. You won't need no
fluffs an' frills, I reckon."
"But, Ann dear," said Hermione, lifting her head and shaking it
ruefully, "I have--nothing! And my best dress--I made it in such a
hurry, you remember--it needs pressing and--"
"He ain't marryin' you fer your clo'es, Hermy--no, sir! It's you he
wants an'--oh, shucks! What do clo'es matter t' you, anyway? You was
meant to be one o' them nymphs an' goddesses as went about clad--well,
airy. You'd ha' done fine with them soft arms an' shoulders an'--"
"But I'm not a goddess, Ann, I'm only poor Hermy Chesterton--with a
hole in one stocking and the lace on her petticoat torn, and her other
things--well, look here!" and up whirled gown and petticoat, "see what a
state they're in--look, Ann!"
"My dear, I am!" nodded Mrs. Trapes over her teacup, "an' what I say is,
it don't matter a row o' pins if a stockin' 's got a bit of a hole in it
if that stockin' 's on sich a leg as that! An' as fer--"
"But," sighed Hermione, "don't you understand--"
"My dear, I do! I was a married woman once, mind. An' I tell you 'beauty
doth lie in the eye o' the beholder', my dear, an' the two eyes as is
a-goin' t' behold you this night is goin' t' behold so much beauty as
they won't behold nothin' else."
"But--he loves dainty things, I'm sure."
"Well, ain't he gettin' a dainty thing? Ain't he gettin' th' daintiest,
sweetest, loveliest--" Here Mrs. Trapes set down her cup again to clasp
Hermione in her arms.
"Do you think he'll--understand, Ann?"
"He'll be a fool if he doesn't!"
"And make allowances? He knows how poor we are and how busy I have to
be."
"He does so, my dear. But, if it's goin' t' comfort you any, there's
that corset cover you made me last Christmas. I ain't never wore it;
I ain't dared to with all them trimmin's an' lace insertion, an' me s'
bony here an' there. You can have it an' willin', my dear, an' then
there's them--"
"Ann, you dear thing, as if I would!"
"Why not? That corset cover's a dream! An' then there's them--"
"Dear, I couldn't--I wouldn't! No, I'll go to him just as I am--he
shall marry me just like I am--"
"An' that's a goddess!" nodded Mrs. Trapes, "yes, a young goddess--only,
with more clo'es on, o' course. I'm glad as he's quit peanuts; peanut
men don't kind o' jibe in with goddesses."
"Ann," said Hermione, sitting back on her heels, "I think of him a great
deal, of course, and--just lately--I've begun to wonder--"
"My dear," said Mrs. Trapes, blowing her tea, "so do I! I been wonderin'
ever since he walked into my flat, cool as I don't know what, an', my
dear, when I sets me mind t' wonderment, conclusions arrive--constant!
I'll tell ye what I think. First, he ain't s' poor as he seems--he wears
silk socks, my dear. Second, he's been nurtured tender--he cleans them
white teeth night an' morn. Third, he ain't done no toil-an'-spinnin'
act--take heed t' his hands, my dear. He's soft-spoke but he's
masterful. He's young, but he's seen a lot. He ain't easy t' rile, but
when he is--my land! He don't say a lot, an' he don't seem t' do much,
an' yet--he don't seem t' starve none. Result--he may be anything!"
"Anything? Ann, dear!"
"Anything!" repeated Mrs. Trapes. "An' havin' studied him good an'
heeded him careful, I now conclood he's jest the thing you need, my
dear."
"Then you like him, Ann--you trust him?"
"I sure do."
"Oh, you dear--dear--dear thing!" And once again Mrs. Trapes was clasped
in those vigorous young arms and kissed with every "dear."
"Though, mind you," said Mrs. Trapes, pushing cup and saucer out of
harm's way, "though, mind you, he's a mystery I ain't found out--yet. D'
ye s'pose he made any money out o' them blessed peanuts--not him! Mrs.
Smalley, as lives down along 'Leventh, she told me as she's seen him
givin' 'em away by the bagful t' all the children down her
way--repeated!"
"How sweet of him!" said Hermione, her red mouth all tender curves.
"Yes, but how did he live? How does he? How will he?"
"I don't know, dear; I only know I would trust him always--always!" And
sitting back, chin in hand, Hermione fell again to happy thought.
"When he give up the nuts," pursued Mrs. Trapes, draining the teapot and
sighing, "he tells me some fool tale of makin' a deal in real estate,
an' I--ha, real estate!" Mrs. Trapes put down the teapot with a jerk.
"A deal in real estate!" she repeated, and thereafter fell to such
unintelligible mutterings as "Record price! Fab'lous! No, it couldn't
be! An' yet--silk socks! 'On an' after above date all tenants soever
residin'--will be re-dooced by fifty per cent!'" Suddenly Mrs. Trapes
sat bolt upright. "My land!" she ejaculated, "oh, dear land o' my
fathers--if sech could be!"
"Why, Ann," exclaimed Hermione, roused from her reverie, "whatever is
the matter?"
"My dear," said Mrs. Trapes, laying gentle hand on Hermione's blooming
cheek, "nothin'--nothin' 't all! I'm jest goin' over in my mind sich
small matters as silk socks an' toothbrushes, that's all."
"But you do mean something--you always do."
"Well--if I do this time, my dear, I'm crazy--but the Bowkers have gone,
mind that! An' him s' fond o' little Hazel!" Here Mrs. Trapes nodded
almost triumphantly.
"The Bowkers? Why, yes--I've been wondering--"
"I guess you know he went t' O'Rourke's an' give that M'Ginnis the
thrashin' of his dirty life?" said Mrs. Trapes rather hastily. "Nigh
killed the loafer, Spider Connolly told me."
"He's so strong," said Hermione softly, her eyes shining. "But, Ann,
what did you mean about--about toothbrushes and socks?"
"Mean? Why, socks an' toothbrushes, o' course. An' my land! here's me
guzzlin' tea, an' over in my kitchen th' finest shin o' beef you ever
saw a-b'ilin' f'r his supper. But now the question as burns is, if a
married man this night, will he be here t' eat? An' if him--then you?
An' if man an' wife suppin' in my parlour--where will ye sleep?"
"I--oh, Ann--I don't know. His letter just said that when I came home it
would be our--wedding night!"
"Why, then it sure will be. An' f'r a weddin' supper, y' couldn't have
nothin' better 'n shin o' beef. I'll go an' watch over that stoo with
care unfailin', my dear; believe me, that stoo's goin' t' be a stoo as
is a stoo! What, half after five? Land sakes, how time flies!"