"
"Certainly the book should end there, then," said I. "You have kept
to the letter of your agreement, and nobly," I added, with
enthusiasm, for I now saw what the poor girl must have suffered.
"Harley didn't try to go further, did he?"
"He did," she said, her voice trembling with emotion. "He set the
time and place for the wedding, issued the cards, provided me with a
trousseau--a trousseau based upon his intuitions of what a trousseau
ought to be, and therefore about as satisfactory to a woman of taste
as that floral silk costume of the garden-party; he engaged the
organist, chose my bridesmaids--girls I detested--and finally
assembled the guests. The groom was there at the chancel rail; Mr.
Willard, whom he had selected to give me away, was waiting outside in
the lobby, clad in his frock-coat, a flower in his button-hole, and
his arm ready for the bride to lean on; the minister was behind the
rail; the wedding-march was sounding--"
"And you?" I cried, utterly unable to contain myself longer.
"I was speeding past Yonkers on the three-o'clock Saratoga express--
bound hither," she answered, with a significant toss of her head.
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