on
Charles's bracelet, and the silver brooch, which she had last worn the
evening when the echoes of Recoara had answered Guy's last chant. Soon
she was visiting Laura, cheering her, soothing her agitation, helping
her to dress in her bridal array, much plainer than Amy's own had been,
for it had been the especial wish of both herself and Philip that their
wedding should be as quiet and unlike Guy's as possible. Then Amabel
was running down-stairs to see that all was right, thinking the
breakfast-table looked dull and forlorn, and calling Charlotte to
help her to make it appear a little more festal, with the aid of some
flowers. Charlotte wondered to see that she had forgotten how she
shunned flowers last summer, for there she was flitting from one old
familiar plant to another in search of the choicest, arranging little
bouquets with her own peculiar grace and taste, and putting them by each
person's place, in readiness to receive them.

It was as if no one else could smile that morning, except Mr.
Edmonstone, who was so pleased to see her looking cheerful, in her
altered dress, that he kissed her repeatedly, and confidentially told
Mrs. Henley that his little Amy was a regular darling, the sweetest girl
in the world, poor dear, except Laura.

Mrs. Henley, in the richest of all silks, looked magnificent and
superior. Mrs. Edmonstone had tears in her eyes, and attended to every
one softly and kindly, without a word; Charlotte was grave, helpful,
and thoughtful; Charles watching every one, and intent on making things
smooth; Laura looked fixed in the forced composure which she had long
ago learnt, and Philip,--it was late before he appeared at all, and
when he came down, there was nothing so plainly written on his face as
headache.

It was so severe that the most merciful thing was to send him to lie
on the sofa in the dressing-room. Amabel said she would fetch him
some camphor, and disappeared, while Laura sat still with her forced
composure. Her father fidgeted, only restrained by her presence from
expressing his fears that Philip was too unwell for the marriage to take
place to-day, and Charles talked cheerfully of the great improvement in
his general health, saying this was but a chance thing, and that on the
whole he might be considered as quite restored.

Mrs. Henley listened and answered, but could not comprehend the state of
things. Breakfast was over, when she heard Amabel speaking to Laura in
the ante-room