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I have come myself to ask you," said Jack in all sincerity. "So! And you have come yourself." He was greatly pleased; his face showed it. "Well, that is very kind of you, but let me first congratulate you. Yes Mr. Grayson told me all about it, and how lovely the young lady is. And now tell me, when is your wedding?" "Next month." "And where will it be?" "At Uncle Peter's old home up at Geneseo."
"That telegram is from Aunt Felicia, I know," said Ruth. "She has set her heart on my coming up to Geneseo, but I cannot go, Jack. I don't want to be a minute away from you." Jack had now broken the seal and was scanning the contents. Instantly his face grew grave. "No it's not from Aunt Felicia," he said in a thoughtful tone, his eyes studying the despatch.
He turned to his dusty case and set up the next item on his yellow copy paper. "Rumour hath it that Sandy Seaver's Sunday trips out of town mean business, and that a certain bright resident of Geneseo will shortly become Mrs. Sandy." He paused again. All at once it seemed to him that the Whipples had been hasty. They would get to thinking the thing over and drop it; never mention it to him again.
MacFarlane had been in favor of the old Maryland home, with Ruth's grandmother in charge, and the neighbors driving up in mud-encrusted buggies and lumbering coaches, their inmates warmed by roaring fires and roaring welcomes fat turkeys, hot waffles, egg-nogg, apple-toddy, and the rest of it. The Grande Dame of Geneseo did not agree with any of these makeshifts.
He was also somewhat ashamed in his heart. It was not altogether himself who had been thoughtful of other people. But for Peter, perhaps, he might never have paid the visit. As the blissful day approached Geneseo was shaken to its centre, the vibrations reaching to the extreme limits of the town.
Lambert; and His Excellency the French Ambassador, whom she had known as an attache and who was passing through the city and had been overjoyed to leave a card; as well as Sir Anthony Broadstairs, who expected to spend a week with her in her quaint home in Geneseo, but who had made it convenient to pay his respects in Fifteenth Street instead: to say nothing of the Coleridges, Thomases, Bordeauxs and Worthing tons, besides any number of people from Washington Square, with plenty more from Murray Hill and be yond.
Another person who especially attracted me was Sir Charles Murray, formerly British minister at Lisbon and Dresden. His first wife was an American, Miss Wadsworth of Geneseo, and he had traveled much in America once through the Adirondacks with Governor Seymour of New York, of whom he spoke most kindly.
"The most beautiful neck and throat, sir, in all Washington in her day," old General Waterbury once told me, and the General was an authority. "You should have seen her in her prime, sir. What the devil the men were thinking of I don't know, but they let her go back to Geneseo, and there she has lived ever since.
She had let him understand so rebuffed him not once, but every time he had tried to broach the subject of his devotion; once in the Geneseo arbor, and again on that morning when he had really crawled to her side because he could no longer live without seeing her.
Neither was there any time to be lost over the invitations. Miss Felicia, we may be sure, prepared the list. It never bothered her head whether the trip to Geneseo and that, too, in the fall of the year, when early snows were to be expected might prevent any of the invited guests from witnessing the glad ceremony. Those who loved Ruth she knew would come even if they had to be accompanied by St.
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