"As well without the veil as with it."

"I see!" said Mrs. Mowbray. "I shall have to succ.u.mb; and Rotha will have her own way. But I did want to see her in a veil. We have had a great deal of trouble over that dress, Rotha and I!"

To Rotha's relief however, Mr. Southwode did not ask why or how, but let the conversation drift on to other subjects.

As they were returning through the long course of rooms and pa.s.sages to the library, Mrs. Mowbray as before leading the way; in one of the lower rooms, dimly lighted, Rotha's steps lingered. She came close to her companion's side and spoke in a lowered tone, timidly.

"Digby--will _you_ ask aunt Serena to come to Southwode?"

"No, my darling," said he, drawing her up to him;--"I will not."

"Then--I?"

"You, and no other. And without my name coming in at all."

"It will not hold for half as much."

"It must. You are the mistress of the house. And besides,--it may be very well that you, who have been injured, should shew your forgiveness; but I am under no such necessity."

"You, who have not been injured, do _not_ forgive her?" said Rotha, laughing a little.

"Yes, I forgive her; but I do not propose to reward her."

"You like me to do it?"

"I like you to do it."

They stood still a moment.

"Digby," said Rotha again, with a breath of anxiety, "_do_ you care how I am dressed Monday?"

"Do I?--Yes."

He had both arms round her now, and was looking down into her changing face.

"You do not think it need be costly, do you? Mrs. Mowbray has a notion that it ought to be rich."

"Will you let me choose it?"

Rotha hesitated, looked down and looked up.

"It is all yours--" she said, somewhat vaguely, but he understood her.

"Only, remember that I am a poor girl, and it _ought_ not to be costly."

"Mrs. Digby Southwode will not be a poor girl," he said, with caresses which shewed Rotha how sweet the words were to him.

"But you know our principle," said Rotha. "I had a mind to wear just my travelling dress; but Mrs. Mowbray said you would not like that, and I must be in white."

"I think I would like you to be in white," he said.

_________

And everybody declared that was a pretty wedding; the prettiest, some said, that ever was seen. There were not many indeed to say anything about it; the Busbys were there, and one or two of Rotha's school friends, and one or two of Mrs. Mowbray's family, and two or three of the teachers, who thought a great deal of Rotha. These were gathered in the library, with the clergyman who was to officiate. Then, entering the library from the drawing room, came Rotha, on Mr. Southwode's arm. She was in white to be sure, with soft-flowing draperies; there was not a hard line or a harsh outline about her. The sleeves of her robe opened and fell away at the elbow, and the arms beneath were half covered with the white gloves. Or rather, one of them; for only one glove was on. The other was carried in the left hand which Rotha had providently left bare.

Her young friends were a little shocked at such irregularity, and even Mrs. Mowbray was annoyed; but Rotha came in too quietly, calmly, gracefully, not to check every feeling but one of contented admiration.

Her cheek was not pale, and her voice did not falter, and her hand did not tremble; nor was there apparently any feeling of self-consciousness whatever to trouble the beautiful dignified calm. It was the calm of intensity however, not of apathy; and one or two persons noticed afterwards that Rotha was trembling.

When congratulations had been spoken and Rotha went to get ready for travelling, the little company thinned off. Her young friends went to help her; then Mrs. Mowbray too slipped away; then Mr. Southwode disappeared; and the rest collected at the front windows to see Rotha go.

After which final satisfaction Mrs. Busby and her daughter walked home silently.

"Mamma," said Antoinette when they were alone at home, "didn't you think Rotha would have a handsomer wedding dress? I thought she would have white silk at least, or satin; and she had only a white muslin!"

"India muslin--" said Mrs. Busby rather grim.

"Well, India muslin; and there was a little embroidered vine all round the bottom of it; but what's India muslin?"

"It looks well on a good figure," said Mrs. Busby.

"I suppose Rotha has what you would call a good figure. But no lace, mamma! and no veil!"

"There was lace on her sleeves--and handsome."

"O but nothing remarkable. And no veil, mamma?"

"Wanted to shew her hair--" said Mrs. Busby. It had been a sour morning's work for the poor woman.

"And not a flower; not a bouquet; not a bit of ornament of any kind!"

Antoinette went on. "What is the use of being married so? And I know if _I_ was going to be married, I would have a better travelling bonnet.

Just a common little straw, with a ribband round it! Ridiculous."

"Men are very apt to like that kind of thing," said her mother.

"Are they? Why are they. And if they are, why don't we wear them?

Mamma!--isn't it ridiculous to see how taken up Mr. Southwode is with Rotha?"

"I did not observe that he was so specially 'taken up,'" Mrs. Busby said.

"O but he had really no eyes for anybody else; and he and I used to be good friends once. Of course, Mr. Southwode is never _empress?_--but I saw that she could not move without his knowing it; and if a chair was half a mile off he would put it out of her way. Mamma--I think _I_ should like to be married."

"Don't be silly, Antoinette! Your turn will come."

"Will it? But mamma, I want somebody every bit as good as Mr. Southwode."

Silence.

"Mamma," Antoinette began again, "did he ask you to come to Southwode?"

"No." Short.