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"Why, yes, he could have gone," she says, cheerfully. "I told him I did not mind staying alone. I do not understand Germans, and " "You could have looked on," interrupts Marcia. "It seems extremely disobliging to the Brades, when they have taken the pains to cultivate you." "I have never been in company without Mr.
The vows are said; they come home to an elegant wedding breakfast, managed by colored waiters who know their business perfectly. There are some friendly, informal neighborhood calls, and all is very gay and bright. Eugene, Marcia, and the Brades are going up the river with them; Mr. and Mrs. Delancy will travel leisurely through Canada and come down to Newport to be Mrs.
"We must invite the Brades and the Van Bergens to the dinner, though I suppose Laura will choose the guests and divide them to her liking; only at the dinner we shall have no dancing. Laura is to come up to-morrow." "If you would like me to speak about the room " says Gertrude. "I believe I am still capable of attending to my own affairs," is the lofty rejoinder.
"I suppose we all do what we think best," comments Marcia, with an air of wisdom, and experience sits enthroned on the little strip of brow above her eyes. "Well, I'm sorry you were not at the Brades', and I do think Eugene ought to pay better attention to business, especially now that Floyd is away. And I don't see why he should stay away from parties if you do not want to go."
There has been so much summer planning. Laura wants madame to come to Newport for a month, and partly extorts a promise from Floyd that he will give her at least a week. Marcia's "hermits" come up to talk over Maine and the Adirondacks and Lake George, and finally settle upon the latter. Their nearest neighbors, the Brades, own a cottage in the vicinity, and beg Mrs.
The Brades come in afterward, and several of the near friends. "I must beg to be excused," Floyd says, after smoking a cigar with the gentlemen. "I am dead tired and half asleep. Good night," softly, with a little pressure on Violet's arm. Cecil runs for a kiss, and he passes through the group on the porch. Violet's heart swells and for an instant she forgets what she is saying.
"I think it a shame that Eugene did not go to the Brades' last night;" and her voice is thinner, sharper than usual, a sure sign of vexation. "They had counted on him for the German, and were awfully disappointed." "I did not want to go," replies Violet, in a soft, excusing tone. "I don't see what that had to do with it," is Marcia's short, pointed comment. Violet glances up.
The Brades have a houseful, and Lucia is followed by a train of adorers; but what does it all avail, since Mordecai sits stubbornly at the gate? Violet comes to have a strange, secret sympathy with the girl who cannot be content and choose among what is offered.
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