The evening world. Newspaper, February 25, 1922, Page 19

THE fingered surgeon's hands. We worked there quite comfortably, not talking at al, and presentiy Tempte, rushing out to bring me my coffee, was quite stunned to see him. He was at easo, though. “I've helped you so much,"’ he sus- gested, rather jocularly, I thought, ‘that you've certainly gained ten mtu- utes of leisure. Can't you sit down here and drink your coffee; and, maybe, I can have a cup too?’" That seemed reasonable, so we sut down quite amicably, and Tempie brought us toast and coffce and a little pot of orange marmalade. Not as much as he'd have had on his break- fast tray, but it was my breakfast, and since he'd offered to share it, he might take what he could get. We had rather a nice little talk, too, mostly dbout Japan, and I was startled when I realized that our ten minutes had become twenty. I jumped up. “You must run along,’’ I said. ‘‘This is my busy day."’ “Oh, I say!"’ he exclaimed. ‘Can't I do anything more to help?"’ KNEW mother ,would rage, and Lettie, too, but he looked so pro- vokingly immaculate in his white flannels that I thought I'd take him at his word. So I let him carry in the flowers and place them as I directed, and then there was some furniture to be moved about, and thon —well, I don't know—I simply went into a daze of activity. There were so ‘ many million things to do, and one ¢f the extra maids we'd engaged for the day didn’t come, and the others were stupid, and everything fell on Tenipie and me. But white flannels or not, Dr. Blaine was a good sport. He lifted and fetched and carried and helped out wonderfully. Looking back, I don’t see what we'd have done with- out him. Somehow, I don’t know how, the breakfast trays were sent up, the place was got ready, the tables were set— we were going to serve the wedding breakfast a la buffet—the maids were put into their proper uniforms and caps and aprons and Tempie was ieft to be their general, All this time, of course, people had been coming and going, presents arriving—and the wed- g bouquets—and the telephone ring- ing, but I kept everyone upstai's as much as possible, and almost before I knew it it,was time for me to get into my bridesmaid's dress and to dress Edith and mother I advised the doctor to go look after Edgar, and he left quite cheerfully. “T feel as if I'd almost personally conducted this wedding,’’ he said, as he went off. I had to grin at that; and T saved it up to tell Tempie, and make her grin, too. HADN'T been a bit worried about the wedding cake—so far, or about anything. But there was one cousin of Edgar's, a Miss Brenda Sparthwaite, began to get on my nerves, and finally she fretted me so that I drove her out of Lettie’s room and made her take her She was who presently fuss and feathers elsewhere. one of these silly, giggling girls (and she wasn't such a girl, either; she must have been thirty), all ful! of bright chatter and clever ideas that were about suited to the mentality of a five year old child. She got dresscd early and she looked too absurd for anything in a little tipped down French hat and a very, very youthful frock, all frills and ribbons. And it was: “Oh, Lettie, dear, I'm sure the musicians have come—what music are you going to have them play first?’’ and "Oh, Lettie, aren't you just too excited?” and “Oh, Lettie” this and “Oh, Lettie” that, until I got wild. So I turned her out, and by dint of some concentrated effort I got Mother into her gray georgette and Edith into her organdie and floppy hat, and Lettie into her lovely trailing wedding dress and veil, and then I gave my hair one quick twist and lezped into my own frock, double-quick, and gave Edith the smelling salts and told her to take care of Lettie and Mother, and [ just flew downstairs the back way and took @ quick survey of everything. And I must say it all looked wonder- ful, and Temple winked at me to in- dicate that everything was. going smoothly. I wfarted the musicians playing, saw that the guests were properly shepherded into the garden, @ave the ushers the cilver ribbons that made the aisle for the procession, and went back upstairs, Edith was admin- isteving the salts alternately to Lettie and Mother, and both of them pre- tended to turn faint and cry when [ told them the hour had come. “Cheer up,” I told Mother “That old cat of a Mrs, Sparthwaite is just hoping you'll break down.” And to Lettie, “You know you look flerce with your eyes red.’ And so I started them downstairs, The other bridesmaids had gathered in the parlor, and I handed them out their baskets of flowers, gave Lettie her bouquet, ran the shade up and down as a signal to the musicians and fell into my place as I heard the “fa ta-ta-ta” of the wedding march begin. Td seen Edgar started under Doctor Blaine’s protecting wing a couple of minutes before, and he looked as white as his uniform. Out into the hall we went, first the ushers, all in uniform, then the long double-line of orchid and pinky brides- maids, and, last of all, Lettie on Moth- er’s arm, looking a'most too lovely—- across the veranda, slowly down the steps and out on the grass into the greenery of the old garden. The silver ribbons shone in the sunlight, and the guests stood all abc t att itively, and the sky was blue and the flowers were in bloom—oh, it was all perfect, and just the way a garden wedding ought to be. We walked slowly down the garden to the pergola and there were the three men—Edgar and Doctor Blaine and the rector—and Edgar came a little forward and stood beside Lettie and looked at her as though he could eat her, ¢ ’ 4 A | 4 WE HAD RATHER A NICE LITTL EVENING WORLD'S FICTION SECTION, SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 25, 1922. looked at the clock. I was beginning to wish that it was all over. After the ices were served and the peonle had had more cup, they began drifting around the garden and laugh- ing and joking and making toasts to the bride and all that sort of thing. Lettie and Edgar came out of the per- gola and some of Edgar's brother- officers skittered about, and it was very gay and festive, And then that impossible Brenda Sparthwaite took a hand, I was just coming from a glance at the clock for the third time and I heard her saying, oh, so playfully, with that determined kittenishness that so many ladies of her age acquire: “And now, Lettie, darling, you must cut the bride’s cake with your hus- band’s sword—that's the one touch of pretty pageantry that will make the E TALK, TOO, MOSTLY ABOUT JAPAN. And so they were married, and day complete. Such a dear, quaint Mother behaved like a brick, and so custom’—— did Edgar, not even fumbling the ring. As for Lettie, she is never confused when it isn’t in the picture, The instant the kissing and the con- gratulations and such began I dropped out of my place and hustled round to Tempie's side. Everything was ready to serve, and as I looked at the wedding cake, so imposing and so stately, so seemingly all solid and substantial, it reassured me. Presently the maids began to bring round the little tables, and people set- tled themselves under ths trees and the lawn umbrellas and all the nice shady spots, to eut. Bdgar and Lettie and some of the relatives had a table under the pergola. I myself went about purring, for every one seemed to be having a good time, and most wed- ding receptions are as stiff as pokers, The serving went on without a hitch, and the way the food was devoured was proof of its quality, Lettie and Edgar had to catch the early afternoon train, and she takes So much time to dress that I knew I'd have to keep an eye on the time. So I ran into the house now and then and My heavens! I stopped eld, right on the edge of the veranda! The one touch of pretty pageantry, indeed! A dear quaint custom! It would be a whole lot dearer and quainter than Miss Brenda imagined. And she is the sort who no sooner thinks of some- thing than it must be done, She ran girlishly round to the refreshment table and summoned two or three of the men to carry the table with the cake on it out into the open, so that everyone could see. I saw Tempie making dramatie gestures, and then fall back stricken. She couldn’t stop Miss Sparthwaite, And there I stood, very little better than Tempie. I didn’t know what to think and I didn’t know what to do. I saw Lettie smiling sweetly up at Edgar, and he drawing out his sword with that fatuous smile of the bride- groom, and cautioning her not to cut herself. Slowly, very slowly, Lettie ex- tended the sword over that whited se- pulchre of a cake—she did it slowly because she had such pretty hands and arms and she wasn't going to let the guests miss them—and slowly, slow, NEXT SATURDAY’S “ORDER YOUR EVENING ‘THE PERFECT DAY By EUGENE MANLOVE RHODES Iifustrated by WILL B. JOHNSTONE Love, Humor, My in the Real West. COMPLETE STORY stery, Adventure WORLD. IN ADVANCE “Fh a te Lm | she began to lower It, her little head tipped adorably and a sweet littie se- rious look on her face, and then — 1 gave a regular Indian yeh and flung myself from the top to the bot- tom of the veranda steps, DON'T remember anything more until I woke with the most ex- cruciating agony in my ankle and right wrist and only able to see from vne eye because there was a bandage over the other. Doctor Blaine was bending over me and every time he touched my arm | groaned, It was broken—he was setting it. I real- ized that and | wanted to ask about it, but there was somethin more im- portant on my mind, “Did Lettie cut that cake?” I asked —no, I demanded, “She's delirious,” said some ona tearfully. It sounded like Mother. But I didn’t heed her. “Answer me,” I said. “Did Lettie cut that cake?” And ‘ito my one eyg I threw a glare of command, I can tell you. Only there were involuntary tears running out of it, because my arm hurt so, “No, she didn’t,” said Doctor Blaine “Then that's all right,” I said, and proceeded to give my whole attention to crying with my good eye. For I had twisted an ankle, brokers my arm, and cut my head neatly ope on one side, as I presently learned, And at first I'd been so stunned that they thought I'd killed myself, And the wedding party was all gone, Lettie and Edgar with many protests, to be Sure, but Doctor Blaine had shooed them off and told them to run along and have their honeymoon and he'd take care of me. After a while Tempie came sneaking in and we had a word or two. “I had to tell the Doctor, Miss Kathy,” she confessed. “He wormed 't out of me, for I was that excited right after the accident I said some things I didn’t intend to. But no one else knows, I do assure you. And [I just had the presence of mind to whisk the cake away and lock it up in the silver chest, where no one would get it, and me with the key. I knew what you were up to, me brave dear, when I feard you screech—ang it wasn't a £ cond too’ soon. Everybody thought youd fainted, and it made quite a fine wind-up to the party, gave them all something to talk about more than they expected, you might say.” Well, that was one way to look at it, and as I got better I found out that Tempie was pretty near right. IT was So dead tired too that it was a lux- ury for me to lie still, for all my aches and pains. But I did hate to have the doctor know it. He'd stayed on after the others had gone back te Providence. Tle said he might just as well spend his vacation seeing that his patient got proper attendance. He also Said he never abandoned a case he'd begun. KE came over a good bit and read to me and talked. He was brusque, but it wasn't a very bad brusqueness once I'd got used to him. And one day I was so well he carried me down into the garden, and when I came in sight of the pergola I knew I'd have to own up about the cake. I was just going to begin when he said something about it himself. “You're an awful fraud, you know,” he said. “When you fell down the steps there every one thought you'd fainted, but fainting young women don't give out war-whoaps to adver- tise their intentions. He looked at me and smiled, and I could see that he knew all, and, like the French proverb, he understood afl, too. “IT had to do omething,” I mur- mured, meekly enough. “I wasn’t go- ing to let all those people see that Lettie’s wedding cake was a sham, was 1?” He had put me down in a big cush- ioned chair and was sitting on the gerass beside me. The bandage was off my head and I had on one of Lettie’s old negligees, a pretty one, and I felt quite Lettie-ish, sitting out in the garden, with a youn: man in attend- ance, “Wedding cakes are fool things,” he said. “Ridiculous survival of a ridicu- lous old custom, I[ndigestible, too. Al the same”—— He stopped and looked at me calmly, and, though [t hadn't occurred to me before, I knew exactly what he was soing to say. “AH the same,” he went on, “just as soon as that arm of yours gets out of the sling and you ean bear your weight on that bad ankle then, right away, I'm going to order you on a diet of wedding cuke. Itt! be yours and mine, I've already got Temple en- gaged to make it.” He knelt beside me and put his cheek against my well cheek He didn’t look at all brusque now, [ put my unhurt arm contentedly around his neck, “Wedding cake’s my favorite food, I said. (Copyright, all rights reserved.) (Printed by arrangement with Met. ropolitan Newspaper Service, New York.)