ad been removed from the roof-garden. There
was a long and flattering encomium of the song and dance which upheld
him in his enthusiasm.

"Yes, it was a big thing; you can understand by what it says here,"
said he, "I was right. I'm mighty sorry it's off."

Chapter XXI

Anderson on Wednesday evening sat on the porch and saw the people
stream by to the wedding. Mrs. Anderson, although it was a very
pleasant and warm evening, did not come outside, but sat by the
parlor window, well-screened by the folds of the old damask curtain.
The wedding was at eight, and by quarter-past seven the people began
to pass; by half-past seven the street was quite full of them. It
seemed as if all Banbridge was gathering. A church wedding was quite
an unusual festivity in the town, and, besides, there had always been
so much curiosity with regard to the Carrolls that interest was
doubled in this case. His mother called to him softly from the
parlor. "There are a great many going, aren't they?" said she.

"Yes, mother," replied Anderson. He distinctly heard a soft sigh from
the window, and his heart smote him a little. He realized dimly that
a matter like this might seem important to a woman. Presently he
heard a soft flop of draperies, and his mother stood large and white
and mild behind him.

"They are nearly all gone who are going, I think?" said she,
interrogatively.

Anderson looked at his watch, holding it towards the light of the
moon, which was just coming above the horizon. The daylight had paled
with suddenness like a lamp burning low from lack of oil. "Yes; they
must be all gone now," said he. "It is eight o'clock."

He rose and placed a chair for his mother, and she settled into it.

"I thought I would not come out here while the people were passing,"
said she. "I have my _matinee_ on, and I am never quite sure that it
is dress enough for the porch."

Anderson looked at the lacy, beribboned thing which his mother wore
over her black silk skirt, and said it was very pretty.

"Yes, it is," said she, "but I am never sure that it is just the
thing to be out of my own room in. I suppose the dresses to-night
will be very pretty. Miss Carroll ought to make a lovely bride. She
is a very pretty girl, and so is her sister. I dare say their dresses
will be prettier than anything of the kind ever seen in Banbridge."

There was an indescribable wistfulness in Mrs. Anderson's voice.
Large and rather majestic woman that she