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I called Rhodora's attention to it. Finding nobody else to do her honour she had entered into conversation with the Lad. Both looked up as I spoke to them. "Yes, isn't she great!" agreed the Lad softly. "Nicest old lady I ever saw." "It's too exciting for her, I should say," commented her granddaughter. "I didn't think she ought to come. I could have come alone just as well I'd a good deal rather.
After a time I managed to exchange places with the Gay Lady, feeling that Rhodora very plainly did consider me an elderly person, and that, in spite of her confidence that the Gay Lady was not "a real girl," as girls of Rhodora's age use the term, she might take her as a substitute for one. The Gay Lady took Rhodora down to the river, and out in the boat.
"One could almost pretend to be frozen to please her," returned the Philosopher, in a much lower tone than Rhodora's. "She is the most beautiful old lady I ever saw." "Goodness, I don't see how you can see anything beautiful about old persons," said the girl. "They give me the creeps." The Philosopher opened his mouth and closed it again, quite as I had done in the morning.
As Hepatica read it aloud we stared at one another, astonished. The letter was from Grandmother, inviting us to Rhodora's wedding, which was to take place under her roof. Rhodora herself had been practically under Grandmother's roof for four years now, except as she had been sent to a school of Grandmother's selection. Rhodora had no mother.
The day of Rhodora's wedding arrived, and we went down together to Grandmother's lovely old country home a stately house upon the banks of a wide, frozen river. Our train brought us there two hours before the one set for the ceremony, and we found not only Grandmother but Rhodora and the Preacher in the fine old-time drawing-room to greet us.
Grandmother used one end of Rhodora's towel, and carefully folded and put it in place, looking regretfully at its rumpled condition. She took a clean pocket-handkerchief out of her bag. Rhodora caught sight of it. "Oh, Grandmother, have you got a spare handkerchief?" she cried. "I've lost mine, I'm afraid."
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