CHAPTER XXX
"Now here there dawneth"
The organ in the Ridgetown church pealed in a stately manner the weddingmusic from _Lohengrin_. Isobel, the bride, moved with exactitude slowlydown the aisle with her three bridesmaids. Mr. Leighton, presumablyleading her, was compelled to delay himself several times. Who couldhave known that the arm lying on his was manipulating matters soconscientiously! It was inimitably done. Isobel's _entourage_ arrangeditself in perfect order, and knowing that everything was properlycompleted, she raised her eyes to those of Robin just as the last chordsounded. This had been rigorously rehearsed, but nothing could havebeen better carried out. The ceremony of marriage commenced.
There were more dramas played out that day than what Ridgetown called"the drama" of Mabel's acting bridesmaid to Isobel. Ridgetown wasdelightfully curious in noting that Robin, for instance, looked nervousand disturbed. The darting glances which had so unnerved the Leightonfamily long ago, dwelt on Isobel only occasionally. Robin would not beat his happiest till the ceremony was over.
Whether by accident or design, Miss Grace, who was unable to join thewedding party on account of her mourning, came in quietly to church withDr. Merryweather. Here was drama enough if one liked to look further asIsobel had done. Then Mr. Symington had been ordered to be an usher.The groomsman, a Mr. Clive, a friend of the Merediths, was, of course,out of the usher part of the business. So Cuthbert and George Macleanand Lance and Mr. Symington were requisitioned. They had to show in theguests and give the cue to the organist, and take the bridesmaids outafterwards. Miss Meredith had been of opinion that they did not requireso many ushers. The girls insisted on four at least.
Elma was not in the seventh heaven which she had inhabited a few daysbefore. There was something still unravelled about Mr. Symington'sattitude.
She was not to know, of course, that he had immediately placed himselfin Mr. Leighton's hands in regard to Mabel. That much-startled persononly thought of another complication--Mabel, when Elma had set her hearton him! In a disturbed manner he had endeavoured to let Mr. Symingtonknow that he might find difficulties in the way. He begged, above allthings, that he might not rush matters.
"Give us time to think a little," he pleaded. "We have had so much ofthis sort of thing lately."
Mr. Symington would have preferred to have had it out then and there."You understand," he said, "that I left this unsaid before, because Ithought, in fact I was led definitely to understand that she was engagedto Meredith, and that my presence here was a trouble to her."
"Ah, that's it--perhaps," said Mr. Leighton. "It was not because ofMeredith. There may be other reasons."
Mr. Symington's hopes went down at a rush.
When the girls crowded into the room for tea, his greeting and Mabel'sconsisted of a mere clasp of the hand on either side with no wordsspoken at all. But Mabel felt suddenly as though she could face theworld. Was it strength he had given her by the mere touch of his hand?She could not raise her eyes to let him or anybody else see what waswritten there.
The deadlock puzzled the triumphant Elma. Miss Grace comforted her alittle. "These things always come right--sooner or later."
These two good friends had not the firmness to probe that remarkfurther, though Elma was dying to ask about Dr. Merryweather.
"I'd like to help them," said Elma instead, "but I should feel like the'tactful woman' that Mr. Maclean was laughing at. He says that whentactful women write novels they are always making people drophandkerchiefs in order to help the heroine, or having a friend outsideor something of that sort at the right moment. It made me feel so sillyover sending the invitation to Mr. Symington. Especially," continuedshe sadly, "since he doesn't seem to be making much use of it. It's veryenervating to be tactful, especially when your tact doesn't come off."
Miss Grace looked at her long and kindly.
"Don't bury your sympathies in the cause of others too much, dear," shesaid. "With some of us, with you and me for instance, it might becomemore of a weakness perhaps than a real virtue."
Elma immediately thought, "There is something in what Isobel said afterall."
Instead of giving voice to it, she said, "I have bothered about Mabs, Iknow. But then, I haven't any affairs of my own, you see."
"Oh, dear child, never be sure, never be too sure about that," said MissGrace.
A delightful feeling stole over Elma. Could it be possible thatanything exciting could ever happen to herself. But no--how could it?
"I think it's papa always telling us no woman ought to be married untilshe's twenty-three that de--demoralizes me so," she said. "And lately,since Mabs is nearly that age, he is actually running it on totwenty-five."
"Yes, but they never really mean it," said Miss Grace.
"Well, one thing I intend to see to is that Mr. Symington takes Mabelout of church after the wedding. Sarah wants him. And Sarah is notgoing to have him."
"I think you are quite right there," said Miss Grace.
Elma got hold of Mr. Symington herself. "I want you to do me a greatfavour," she said. "I want you to escort Mabel on Tuesday."
"It isn't a favour," he said. He pulled his big shoulders together andlooked magnificent. He was browned and tanned with the sun. Only aslight frown between the eyes to be cleared away and then he would bethe old Mr. Symington.
"Well, please do it like this. Ask Mabel if you may."
"Now?" asked Mr. Symington.
"If you like," said Elma.
They were on the lawn after dinner, and Mr. Symington in two days hadhardly had a glimpse of Mabel, far less any conversation with her.
She was talking to Isobel.
He walked straight up to her.
"May I escort you out of church on Tuesday?" he asked.
Mabel looked up in a puzzled way, then her eyes lit with shyness andsomething much more brilliant than had been seen in them for a longtime.
"Yes," she said simply.
(Could he know how her heart thumped to that quiet "yes"?)
"Thank you."
(Oh, after all, after all, could the sun shine after all!)
Isobel broke in coldly.
"I had understood from Robin that Mr. Symington would take MissMeredith."
Mabel turned cold. She could not help it, for the life of her, shecould not help it, she turned an appealing glance on Mr. Symington.This he had hardly required, but it helped him to a joyous answer.
"Oh, no, Miss Leighton. Some mistake. I'm bound to Miss Mabel."
Elma strolled up. "It's all because of Cuthbert's insisting on takingHelen. Cuthbert ought to have taken Mabel. Mr. Clive takes the firstbridesmaid; Mr. Symington, Mabel; George Maclean, Jean."
"Who takes you?" asked Mr. Symington.
"Oh, I'm not in the procession," said Elma.
"Yes, you are." Mabel was quite animated now. "The whole family trailsout in pairs with somebody or another."
George Maclean strolled up.
"I shall take Elma," he said.
"No, you won't! You take Jean."
"I won't be taken by George Maclean," cried Jean. "He's always horrid tome."
"Wire for Slavska," interpolated Betty.
"Is this my wedding, or whose is it?" asked Isobel.
They settled everything once more. The real result lay in Mr.Symington's determination about Mabel.
He came to Elma afterwards.
"Is there anything under the sun you want, which you haven't got?" heasked her. "Because I should like to present it to you here and now."
That cleared up things incalculably for the wedding. Elma sitting infront saw only Mabel, and Mabel's face was the colour of a pink rose.Mr. Symington took her out of church after the wedding, next to thefirst bridesmaid.
Aunt Katharine followed them with her lorgnette.
"They're a fine couple," she said to Elma. "It's a pity Mabel spoiledherself with this Meredith
man. Mr. Symington might lead her out inearnest. I always told your mother what it would be."
There was no squashing of Aunt Katharine.
Mabel had begun to see land after having tossed on what had seemed anendless sea. She had been without any hope at all, but it was necessaryto appear throughout as though she had some safe anchor holding her inport. The joy of delivery was almost more than she could bear. Shebecame afraid of looking at Mr. Symington. After the arrival of theguests at the White House, she managed to slip out and disappearupstairs. Her own room had people in it helping to robe Isobel. Shestole into the schoolroom. Too late of making up her mind, since Mr.Symington, seeing a trail of pale silken skirts disappear there, triedthe only door open to him on that landing. He found Mabel.
"Oh," said she blankly. "I wanted to get away--away from downstairs fora little."
He had some difficulty in replying.
"So I noticed," he said.
They lamely waited. Mabel caught at a window cord and played with it.
"We ought to go downstairs," she whispered.
Why she spoke in a whisper she could not imagine.
Mr. Symington came close to her.
"Mabs," he said, "just for three minutes I mean to call you Mabs. Andafter that--if you are offended--you can turn me off to the ends of theearth again. You know why I left before."
She bent her head a little.
"You didn't want me to go? You didn't want me to go! Say that much,won't you?"
She could not answer.
"I know what it means if you do," he said. "Oh don't I know what itmeans? Mabs, I'm going to make you care for me--as I do for you--canyou possibly imagine how much I care for you--why won't you speak tome?"
Mabel never spoke to him at all.
He happened to take her hand just then, and the same confidence whichhad so strangely come to her a few days ago on his arrival, came to heronce more. He took her hand, and time stood still.
Somebody outside, a vague time afterwards, called for Mabel. It dawnedon them both that they were attending Isobel's wedding.
"We ought to go downstairs," whispered Mabel.
Her conversation was certainly very limited. They both smiled as theynoticed this, a comprehensive, understanding, oh! a different smile toany they had ever allowed themselves.
"We will, when you've just once--Mabs--look up at me. Now--once."
Time stood still once more, but it took the last of the frown frombetween the eyes of Mr. Symington.
"Now for Isobel's wedding party," cried he.
Mr. Leighton was stunned a little with the news. "Only one stipulation,"said he. "I want to tell Elma myself."
Mabel was terribly disappointed.
"Oh, papa--of all people--I wanted to tell Elma."
He was adamant however, even when Mr. Symington added his requests.
"You've interfered seriously enough between me and one of my daughters,"Mr. Leighton said severely. "Leave me the other."
So nothing was mentioned until Mr. Leighton should tell Elma. Mrs.Leighton was nervous about the whole thing, yet in an underhand way veryproud of Mabel.
"I can't see that any of you are at all suited to be the wife of a manlike Mr. Symington," she said to Mabel pessimistically. "But yourfather thinks it is all right." She had had rather a long day with AuntKatharine.
Elma saw that the clouds had lifted where Mabel was concerned, and Mr.Symington was in magnificent spirits. She thought they might have toldher something, but she was sent to lie down with no news at all untilthe dance in the evening. Isobel left regally. There was not much ofthe usual scrimmage of a wedding-leave-taking about her departure. Hertoque and costume were irreproachable. Miss Meredith attended herdutifully, as though she were a bridesmaid herself. But with Robin shehad felt too motherly for that. Indeed, some new qualities in MissMeredith seemed to be coming uppermost.
Dancing was in full swing in the evening when Mr. Leighton methodicallyput on an overcoat and took Elma to sit out in the verandah. "It is toprevent your dancing too much," he told her.
Elma had the feeling of being manipulated as she had been when she wasill. What did all this mystery mean? She tucked in readily enoughbeside her father. The night was warm, with a clear moon, and thelights from the drawing-room and on the balcony shed pretty patches ofcolour on her white dress and cloak.
Mr. Leighton began to talk of Adelaide Maud of all people. She wasthere, with her sisters. They had at last dropped the armour ofetiquette which had prevented more than one from ever appearing at theLeightons.
"I don't suppose any of you really know what that girl has comethrough," said Mr. Leighton. "All these years it has gone on. Aconstant criticism, you know. Mrs. Dudgeon found out long ago aboutCuthbert, and what Cuthbert calls 'roasted' her continually. AdelaideMaud remained the fine magnificently true girl she is to-day. That is adifficult matter when one's own family openly despises the people onehas set one's heart on. She never gave a sign of giving in eitherway--did she?"
"Not a sign," said Elma. "Adelaide Maud is a delicious brick, shealways has been. The Story Books have come true at last."
"It does not sound like being in battle," said Mr. Leighton, in apertinacious way. "But a battle of that sort is far more real than manyof the fights we back up in a public manner. One relieves the poor, andyou girls give concerts for hospitals, but who can give a concert torelieve the like of the trouble that Adelaide Maud has gone through?She never wavered."
Elma thought of another fight--should she tell her father?
"We talk about Ridgetown being a slow place, but what a drama can belived through here!" went on Mr. Leighton. "Isobel, for instance,thinks there's nothing in life unless one attends fifty balls a month.Yet she lived her little drama in Ridgetown. And she has learned to becivil to Miss Meredith. There's another fight for you. It cost herseveral pangs, let me tell you."
("What did it all lead to?" thought Elma.)
"Oh, there were other fights too, papa, but one I think is over. Haveyou seen Mabel's face to-night?"
Mr. Leighton started.
Elma required some sort of confidant, "or I shall explode or something,"she explained. She told her father about Mr. Symington.
"And I've been worrying so because it seemed so sad about Mabel. Andshe never gave it away, did she? And when you all thought so much ofIsobel when she first came, and Mabel was getting dropped all round, shenever said a word, did she?"
"No," said Mr. Leighton, with a long-drawn impatient sort of relief inhis voice. "No, but you did. You talked so much about the man allthrough your illness that your mother thought you were in love with himyourself. Ridiculous nonsense," he said testily. "And here have I beentrying to brace you up to hearing that Mabel is engaged to him, and thescoundrel wishes to marry her at once."
Dr. Merryweather, who had said that Elma was not to be excited, ought tohave been on the spot just then. She sat on her father's knee and huggedhim.
"Oh, papa, papa, how glorious," said she. "Never mind, I shall alwaysstay with you, I shall, I shall."
"Oh, will you?" said Mr. Leighton dismally. "Mabel said the same thingnot so long ago."
Mrs. Leighton and Aunt Katharine came on the balcony, and behind them,Mabel and Mr. Symington.
"Isn't this a midsummer's night's dream?" sighed Elma, after thecongratulations were over. "I shall get up in the morning everafterwards, and I shall say, 'Now here there dawneth another blueday'--even although it's as black as midnight."
"Well, now that we're rid of Mabel," said Aunt Katharine placidly, "whenwill your turn come along?"
"Oh, Elma is going to stay with me," said Mr. Leighton.
"H'm. Well, she always admired Miss Grace," said Aunt Katharine."There's nothing like being an old maid from the beginning."
Elma stirred herself gently, and laughed in the moonlight.
"Miss Grace is to be married to Dr. Merryweather," she said with asmile. It was her piece
of news, reserved till now for a properaudience.
Miss Grace had told her anxiously in the course of the afternoon. "Oh,"Elma had said, "how nice! Dr. Merryweather is such a duck!"
"Do you think so?" had asked Miss Grace seriously. "Miss Annie used tothink he was a little loud in his manners."
Miss Grace would ever be loyal to Miss Annie. Adelaide Maud came outjust then with Cuthbert. "How much finer to have been loyal to the likeof Cuthbert!" Elma could not help the thought. Ah, well, there werefights and fights, and no doubt Miss Grace had won on her particularbattlefield.
A new dance commenced indoors, and some came searching for partners.
"Mr. Leighton," said the voice of George Maclean, "won't you spare Elmafor this dance?"
They turned round to look at him.
"Elma wants to stay with me," said Mr. Leighton gravely, putting hisarms round her.
"Hph!" said Aunt Katharine in an undertone. "It's another Miss Grace,sure enough."
"Why don't you go and dance?" asked Adelaide Maud of Elma.
There were her two ideals, Miss Grace and Adelaide Maud, crossing swordsas it were with one another. And there was George Maclean waiting at thewindow of the drawing-room. A Strauss waltz struck up inside, one whichshe loved. Ah, well, there were several kinds of fights in the world.She felt in some inscrutable way that it was "weak" to stay with herfather.
She went in with George Maclean.
Mr. Leighton pulled up a chair for his wife, as the others, includingeven Aunt Katharine, faded from the balcony.
"I take this as an omen, they are all leaving us," he said in a sadmanner.
Mrs. Leighton sighed gently. "We did the same ourselves, didn't we,John?"
And with a Strauss waltz hammering out its joyous commanding rhythm, ason and daughter engaged, and Elma just deserted, Mr. Leighton repliedvery dismally indeed, "I suppose so."
"Hush," said Mrs. Leighton. "Who knows? This may be another."
It was Jean with a University acquaintance of Cuthbert's.
He placed her carefully in a chair and bent in a lounging manner overher.
"You see," said Jean in a high intense voice, "it's the method that doesit."
"Ha," said Mr. Leighton joyously. "Herr Slavska may yet save me adaughter."
Butler and Tanner, The Selwood Printing Works, Frome, and London.
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The Story Book Girls Page 30
