"I'll call for you here at about ten," he said."Will that do?"He spoke of the following morning.He had planned to take Page, Mrs.Wessels, and Laura on a day's excursion to Geneva Lake to see how work was progressing on the country house.Jadwin had set his mind upon passing the summer months after the marriage at the lake, and as the early date of the ceremony made it impossible to erect a new building, he had bought, and was now causing to be remodelled, an old but very well constructed house just outside of the town and once occupied by a local magistrate.The grounds were ample, filled with shade and fruit trees, and fronted upon the lake.Laura had never seen her future country home.But for the past month Jadwin had had a small army of workmen and mechanics busy about the place, and had managed to galvanise the contractors with some of his own energy and persistence.There was every probability that the house and grounds would be finished in time.
"Very well," said Laura," in answer to his question, "at ten we'll be ready.Good-night." She held out her hand.But Jadwin put it quickly aside, and took her swiftly and strongly into his arms, and turning her face to his, kissed her cheek again and again.
Laura submitted, protesting:
"Curtis! Such foolishness.Oh, dear; can't you love me without crumpling me so? Curtis! Please.You are so rough with me, dear."She pulled away from him, and looked up into his face, surprised to find it suddenly flushed; his eyes were flashing.
"My God," he murmured, with a quick intake of breath, "my God, how I love you, my girl! Just the touch of your hand, the smell of your hair.Oh, sweetheart.It is wonderful! Wonderful!" Then abruptly he was master of himself again.
"Good-night," he said."Good-night.God bless you,"and with the words was gone.
They were married on the last day of June of that summer at eleven o'clock in the morning in the church opposite Laura's house--the Episcopalian church of which she was a member.The wedding was very quiet.
Only the Cresslers, Miss Gretry, Page, and Aunt Wess'
were present.Immediately afterward the couple were to take the train for Geneva Lake--Jadwin having chartered a car for the occasion.
But the weather on the wedding day was abominable.Awarm drizzle, which had set in early in the morning, developed by eleven o'clock into a steady downpour, accompanied by sullen grumblings of very distant thunder.
About an hour before the appointed time Laura insisted that her aunt and sister should leave her.She would allow only Mrs.Cressler to help her.The time passed.
The rain continued to fall.At last it wanted but fifteen minutes to eleven.
Page and Aunt Wess', who presented themselves at the church in advance of the others, found the interior cool, dark, and damp.They sat down in a front pew, talking in whispers, looking about them.Druggeting shrouded the reader's stand, the baptismal font, and bishop's chair.Every footfall and every minute sound echoed noisily from the dark vaulting of the nave and chancel.The janitor or sexton, a severe old fellow, who wore a skull cap and loose slippers, was making a great to-do with a pile of pew cushions in a remote corner.The rain drummed with incessant monotony upon the slates overhead, and upon the stained windows on either hand.Page, who attended the church regularly every Sunday morning, now found it all strangely unfamiliar.The saints in the windows looked odd and unecclesiastical; the whole suggestion of the place was uncanonical.In the organ loft a tuner was at work upon the organ, and from time to time the distant mumbling of the thunder was mingled with a sonorous, prolonged note from the pipes.
"My word, how it is raining," whispered Aunt Wess', as the pour upon the roof suddenly swelled in volume.
But Page had taken a prayer book from the rack, and kneeling upon a hassock was repeating the Litany to herself.
It annoyed Aunt Wess'.Excited, aroused, the little old lady was never more in need of a listener.Would Page never be through?
"And Laura's new frock," she whispered, vaguely."It's going to be ruined."Page, her lips forming the words, "Good Lord deliver us," fixed her aunt with a reproving glance.To pass the time Aunt Wess' began counting the pews, missing a number here and there, confusing herself, always obliged to begin over again.From the direction of the vestry room came the sound of a closing door.Then all fell silent again.Even the shuffling of the janitor ceased for an instant.
"Isn't it still?" murmured Aunt Wess', her head in the air."I wonder if that was them.I heard a door slam.
They tell me that the rector has been married three times." Page, unheeding and demure, turned a leaf, and began with "All those who travel by land or water." Mr.
Cressler and young Miss Gretry appeared.They took their seats behind Page and Aunt Wess', and the party exchanged greetings in low voices.Page reluctantly laid down her prayer book.
"Laura will be over soon," whispered Mr.Cressler.
"Carrie is with her.I'm going into the vestry room.
J.has just come." He took himself off, walking upon his tiptoes.
Aunt Wess' turned to Page, repeating:
"Do you know they say this rector has been married three times?"But Page was once more deep in her prayer book, so the little old lady addressed her remark to the Gretry girl.
This other, however, her lips tightly compressed, made a despairing gesture with her hand, and at length managed to say:
"Can't talk."
"Why, heavens, child, whatever is the matter?""Makes them worse--when I open my mouth--I've got the hiccoughs."Aunt Wess' flounced back in her seat, exasperated, out of sorts.
"Well, my word," she murmured to herself, "I never saw such girls.""Preserve to our use the kindly fruits of the earth,"continued Page.
