een for one special
excitement. Mohunsleigh's engagement to Carolyn Pitchley was announced,
and we were told that the wedding would have to be soon, as Mohunsleigh
had had news which called him back to England, and he wanted to take
his bride with him.

Before I stopped to think, I'd promised Carolyn to be one of her
bridesmaids; but five minutes later I would almost have liked to change
my mind, because of Potter. He was asked to be an usher. (I didn't know
at the time what that meant, but I had a vague impression it was
something of importance at American weddings) so that I was sure to see
a lot of him if I were bridesmaid, and in any case, I was beginning to
feel he might make it too awkward for me to visit much longer with Mrs.
Ess Kay.

However, when on second thoughts, I tried to get out of my promise, by
hinting that I might have to go home, Carolyn seemed ready to cry and
said that if I threw her over it would spoil everything. The wedding
would be in ten days, and surely, I hadn't been thinking of going back
to England as soon as that?

It was quite true, I hadn't. And more than that, I knew I shouldn't be
welcome at home. I made up my mind to get through somehow, and told
Carolyn I had only been joking.

She had always wanted to be married at Grace Church in New York, but
New York is no place for August weddings, if an August wedding you must
have; so Carolyn's invitations, which appeared almost immediately after
the engagement was announced, told everyone that Mr. and Mrs. Pitchley
begged them to be present at their daughter's marriage in the drawing
room of the Chateau de Plaisance.

I didn't know that you could be married in a drawing room, but it seems
you can, quite properly. However, when I go home I don't think I'd
better say much about that part of Mohunsleigh's wedding, or some of
the old-fashioned people mightn't understand. I should hate them to get
the idea just because of the drawing room, that poor Carolyn was
morganatic, or something.

She seemed ecstatically happy, more than I could imagine any girl being
if she had to marry Mohunsleigh, who, although a dear good fellow when
you know him, isn't a bit romantic. But he suddenly blossomed out into
all sorts of pleasant American ways, sent Caro flowers and things every
day, though I fancy he couldn't afford it, gave her a lovely solitaire
diamond ring, which I'm _sure_ he couldn't, and a "guard," an heirloom
in his family.

It would have