sun to shine on a bride, say what you will, Miss Shirley, ma'am.
_I_ knew things were going too well to last."

Charlotta the Fourth seemed certainly to have borrowed a leaf out of
Miss Eliza Andrews' book.

It did not rain, though it kept on looking as if it meant to. By noon
the rooms were decorated, the table beautifully laid; and upstairs was
waiting a bride, "adorned for her husband."

"You do look sweet," said Anne rapturously.

"Lovely," echoed Diana.

"Everything's ready, Miss Shirley, ma'am, and nothing dreadful has
happened YET," was Charlotta's cheerful statement as she betook herself
to her little back room to dress. Out came all the braids; the resultant
rampant crinkliness was plaited into two tails and tied, not with two
bows alone, but with four, of brand-new ribbon, brightly blue. The two
upper bows rather gave the impression of overgrown wings sprouting from
Charlotta's neck, somewhat after the fashion of Raphael's cherubs. But
Charlotta the Fourth thought them very beautiful, and after she had
rustled into a white dress, so stiffly starched that it could stand
alone, she surveyed herself in her glass with great satisfaction . . . a
satisfaction which lasted until she went out in the hall and caught
a glimpse through the spare room door of a tall girl in some softly
clinging gown, pinning white, star-like flowers on the smooth ripples of
her ruddy hair.

"Oh, I'll NEVER be able to look like Miss Shirley," thought poor
Charlotta despairingly. "You just have to be born so, I guess . . . don't
seem's if any amount of practice could give you that AIR."

By one o'clock the guests had come, including Mr. and Mrs. Allan, for
Mr. Allan was to perform the ceremony in the absence of the Grafton
minister on his vacation. There was no formality about the marriage.
Miss Lavendar came down the stairs to meet her bridegroom at the foot,
and as he took her hand she lifted her big brown eyes to his with a look
that made Charlotta the Fourth, who intercepted it, feel queerer than
ever. They went out to the honeysuckle arbor, where Mr. Allan was
awaiting them. The guests grouped themselves as they pleased. Anne and
Diana stood by the old stone bench, with Charlotta the Fourth between
them, desperately clutching their hands in her cold, tremulous little
paws.

Mr. Allan opened his blue book and the ceremony proceeded. Just as
Miss Lavendar and Stephen Irving were pronounced man and wife a very
beautiful and sym