rom Monsieur Berry," said Annette, as she
triumphantly produced a white box tied with white ribbons that lay in the
center of a bunch of wild field-roses.

"Take it away and let me drink my coffee," I said, and I could see
Annette's French eyes snap as she laid down the offering from Matthew and
went to attend upon Bess.

"Dear Matt," I murmured when I had consumed the coffee and discovered the
long string of gorgeous pearls in the white box. "Come on, Bess, let's
begin to get married and be done with it," I called to her as I wearily
arose. "What time did Polly say she and Matthew had decided to marry me?" I
asked as I went into my bath.

"Five o'clock, and it's almost twelve now," answered Bess in a voice of
panic as I heard things begin to fly into place in her room.

Despite the superhuman efforts and patience of Annette and two housemaids,
directed from below by Owen and Judge Rutherford, it was half-past two
o'clock before I was ready to descend to the car in which Matthew had been
sitting, patiently waiting in the sunshine of his wedding day for almost
two hours.

"Plenty of time," he said cheerily, as I sank into the seat beside him, and
Bess and Owen climbed in behind us. Owen's chauffeur took Judge Rutherford
in Owen's car, and Annette perched her prim self on the front seat beside
the wheel.

"Oh, Matt, there is nobody in the world like you," I said as I cast myself
on his patience and imperturbability and also the strength of his broad
shoulder next mine. I could positively hear Bess and Owen's joy over this
bride-like manifestation, which the wind took back to them as we went
sailing out of town towards the Riverfield ribbon.

And to their further joy I put my cheek down against Matthew's throttle arm
and closed my eyes so that I did not see anything of the twenty-mile
progression out to Elmnest. I only opened them when we arrived in
Riverfield at about half after three o'clock.

Was the village out to greet me? It was not. Every front door was closed,
and every front shutter shut, and I might have felt that some dire
disapproval was being expressed of me and my wedding if I had not seen
smoke fairly belching from every kitchen chimney, and if I hadn't known
that each house was filled with the splash of vigorous tubbing for which
the kitchen stoves and wash boilers were supplying the hot water.

"Bet at least ten pounds of soap has gone up in lather," said Matthew as he
turned and explained the si