being a subject
for gossip. And Mrs. Lennox, to whom this was said, promised compliance
with everything, or if she ventured to object she found herself borne
down by a stronger will than her own, and weakly yielded, her manner
fully testifying to her delight at the honor conferred upon her by this
high marriage of her child. Wilford knew just how pleased she was, and
her obsequious manner annoyed him far more than did Helen's blunt,
straightforwardness, when, after supper was over, she told him how
averse she was to his taking Katy so soon, adding still further that if
it must be, she saw no harm in inviting a few of their neighbors. It was
customary--it would be expected, she said, while Mrs. Lennox, emboldened
by Helen's boldness, chimed in, "at least your folks will come; I shall
be glad to meet your mother."

Wilford was very polite to them both; very good-humored, but he kept to
his first position, and poor Mrs. Lennox saw fade into airy nothingness
all her visions of roasted fowls and frosted cake trimmed with myrtle
and flowers, with hosts of the Silverton people there to admire and
partake of the marriage feast. It was too bad, and so Aunt Betty said,
when, after Wilford had gone to Linwood, the family sat together around
the kitchen stove, talking the matter over.

"Yes, it was too bad, when there was that white hen turkey she could fat
up so easy before June, and she knew how to make 'lection cake that
would melt in your mouth, and was enough sight better than the black
stuff they called weddin' cake. Vum! she meant to try what she could do
with Mr. Cameron."

And next morning when he came again she did try, holding out as
inducements why he should be married the night before starting for
Boston, the "white hen, turkey, the 'lection cake, and the gay old times
the young folks would have playing snap-and-catchem; or if they had a
mind, they could dance a bit in the kitchen. She didn't believe in it,
to be sure--none of the orthodox did; but as Wilford was a 'Piscopal,
and that was a 'Piscopal quirk, it wouldn't harm for once."

Wilford tried not to show his disgust, and only Helen suspected how hard
it was for him to keep down his utter contempt. She saw it in his eyes,
which resembled two smoldering volcanoes as they rested upon Aunt Betsy
during her harangue.

"Thank you, madam, for your good intentions, but I think we will
dispense with the turkey and the cake," was all he said, though he did
smile at