Quite the best-dressed man in the room, everybody
said, and they of all the people in the world should have known.
And the wedding!
And all that went before it, and all that took place on that
joyous day; and all that came after that happiest of events!
Ruth and Jack, with Peter's covert endorsement, had wanted to slip
into the village church some afternoon at dusk, with daddy and
Peter and Miss Felicia, and one or two more, and then to slip out
again and disappear. 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 head of the house of Breen expressed the opinion
(this on the day Jack gave his check for the bonds prior to
returning them to Isaac, who wouldn't take a cent of interest)
that the ceremony should by all means take place in Grace Church,
after which everybody would adjourn to his house on the Avenue,
where the wedding-breakfast would be served, he being nearest of
kin to the groom, and the bride being temporarily without a home
of her own--a proposition which, it is needless to say, Jack
declined on the spot, but in terms so courteous and with so grand
and distinguished an air that the head of the house of Breen found
his wonder increasing at the change that had come over the boy
since he shook the dust of the Breen home and office from his
feet.
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