been seemly to have the
bridesmaids as smart as the bride--and we were dressed alike, in white
French cambric, with light green trimmings. Of course we all wore white
ribbons. I think Father would have stormed at us if we had put on any
other colour. I should not like to be the one to wear a red ribbon when
he was by! [Note 1.] We wore straw milk-maid hats, with green ribbon
mixed with the white; and just a sprinkle of grey powder in our hair.
Cecilia would not be a bridesmaid, though she was asked. I don't think
she liked the dress chosen; and indeed it would not have suited her.
But wasn't she dressed up! She wore--I really must set it down--a
purple lutestring, [Note 2.] over such a hoop that she had to lift it on
one side when she went in at the church door; this was guarded with gold
lace and yellow feathers. She had a white laced apron, purple velvet
slippers with red heels, and her lace ruffles were something to look at!
And wasn't she patched! and hadn't she powdered her hair, and made it
as stiff with pomatum as if it had been starched! Then on the top of
this head went a lace cap--it was not a hood--just a little, light,
fly-away cap, with purple ribbons and gold embroidery, and in the middle
of the front a big gold pompoon.

What a contrast there was between her and my Aunt Kezia! She wore a
silk dress too, only it was a dark stone-colour, as quiet as a
Quakeress, just trimmed with two rows of braid, the same colour, round
the bottom, and a white silk scarf, with a dark blue hood, and just a
little rosette of white lace at the top of it. Aunt Kezia's hood was a
hood, too, and was tied under her chin as if she meant it to be some
good. And her elbow-ruffles were plain nett, with long dark doe-skin
gloves drawn up to meet them. Cecilia wore white silk mittens. I hate
mittens; they are horrid things. If you want to make your hands look as
ugly as you can, you have only to put on a pair of mittens.

The wedding-dinner, which was at noon, was a very grand one. It should
have been, for didn't my arms ache with beating eggs and keeping pans
stirred! Hatty said we were martyrs in a good cause. But I do think
Fanny might have taken a little more trouble herself, seeing it was her
wedding. Now, let us see, what had we? There was a turkey pie, and a
boar's head, chickens in different ways, and a great baron of roast
beef; cream beaten to snow (Sophy did that, I am glad to say), candied
fruits, and i