ense her. "I guess you'll find there's something
needed besides _ornaments_ when you come right down to livin'. For one
thing, you're awful short of dishes and bedding, and you can't ever have
no company--unless," she added, with withering sarcasm, "you give 'em
little vases to drink out of, and put 'em to bed under a picture-drape,
with a pin-cushion or a scent-bag for a piller."

And from that time Mrs. Robinson accepted no gift without first
consulting her list. It became known that she looked upon useful
articles with favor, and brooms and flat-irons and bright tinware
arrived constantly. Then it was that the heterogeneous collection began
to pall upon Esther. The water-set had not yet been presented, but its
magnificence grew upon her, and she persuaded Joe to get a
spindle-legged stand on which to place it, although he could not furnish
the cottage until October, and had gone in debt for the few necessary
things. She pictured the combination first in one corner of the little
parlor, then another, finally in a window where it could be seen, from
the road.

Esther's standards did not vary greatly from her mother's, but she had a
bewildered sense that they were somehow stepping from the beaten track
of custom. On one or two points, however, she was firm. The few novels
that had come within her reach she had conned faithfully. Thus, even
before she had a lover, she had decided that the most impressive hour
for a wedding was sunrise, and had arranged the procession which was to
wend its way towards the church. And in these matters her mother,
respecting her superior judgment, stood stanchly by her.

Nevertheless, when the eventful morning arrived she was bitterly
disappointed. She had set her heart on having the church bell rung, and
overlooked the fact that the meeting-house bell was cracked, till Joe
reminded her. Then the weather was unexpectedly chilly. A damp fog, not
yet dispersed by the sun, hung over the barely awakened village, and the
little flower-girl shivered. She had a shawl pinned about her, and when
the procession was fairly started she tripped over it, and there was a
halt while she gathered up the roses and geraniums in her little
trembling hands and thrust them back into the basket. Celia Smith
tittered. Celia was the bridesmaid, and was accompanied by Joe's friend,
red-headed Harry Baker; and Mrs. Robinson and Uncle Jonas, who were far
behind, made the most of the delay. Mrs. Robinson often explai