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"Who is in there?" he asked.
"Mr. Symington."
"Oh, it's he, is it?"
"Why do you ask?"
"Oh, for no particular reason," said Cuthbert. "Only Elma saw him coming in and called him an old johnny. I knew something was up."
"Elma?" asked Mrs. Leighton anxiously.
"Yes. And she's in great form about something. Haven't seen her so gay for an age."
Mrs. Leighton's eyes dropped. "Poor little girl," she said to herself.
She thought it best to proceed upstairs, and break some of the surprise of Mr. Symington's arrival.
She found them in a room where boxes were piled in every direction. It was like her that in her present dilemma she should immediately begin to reprove them for their untidy habits.
"This room is really a disgrace," she said. "Just look at all these boxes! And it's tea-time and not one of you in the drawing-room with your father, the only afternoon he has too! Elma, what have you been doing to make your hair so untidy?"
"My hair is only a wig, and this is my room," said Elma firmly. "For the last ten minutes I have been trying to get to my own mirror. We are prinking ourselves up for the great Mr. Symington."
"Oh," said Mrs. Leighton. "So you know. Well, he only got the invitation a few days ago, when he was buried in Servia or some outlandish place. He came right on."
"For my wedding?" asked Isobel in cool surprise.
Miss Meredith gazed in a rather frightened manner at every one.
"No," said Elma. "Not altogether. There were others reasons." She determined to cut all the ground from under the feet of Sarah. "I arranged it with Mr. Symington," she said in an important voice. Then, with the airy manner of the London girl, she patted down the turbulent wig, which had so annoyed Mrs. Leighton. "He is a perfect duck," she said lightly.
CHAPTER x.x.x
"Now here there dawneth"
The organ in the Ridgetown church pealed in a stately manner the wedding music from _Lohengrin_. Isobel, the bride, moved with exact.i.tude slowly down the aisle with her three bridesmaids. Mr. Leighton, presumably leading her, was compelled to delay himself several times. Who could have known that the arm lying on his was manipulating matters so conscientiously! It was inimitably done. Isobel's _entourage_ arranged itself in perfect order, and knowing that everything was properly completed, she raised her eyes to those of Robin just as the last chord sounded. This had been rigorously rehea.r.s.ed, but nothing could have been better carried out. The ceremony of marriage commenced.
There were more dramas played out that day than what Ridgetown called "the drama" of Mabel's acting bridesmaid to Isobel. Ridgetown was delightfully curious in noting that Robin, for instance, looked nervous and disturbed. The darting glances which had so unnerved the Leighton family long ago, dwelt on Isobel only occasionally. Robin would not be at his happiest till the ceremony was over.
Whether by accident or design, Miss Grace, who was unable to join the wedding party on account of her mourning, came in quietly to church with Dr. Merryweather. Here was drama enough if one liked to look further as Isobel had done. Then Mr. Symington had been ordered to be an usher.
The groomsman, a Mr. Clive, a friend of the Merediths, was, of course, out of the usher part of the business. So Cuthbert and George Maclean and Lance and Mr. Symington were requisitioned. They had to show in the guests and give the cue to the organist, and take the bridesmaids out afterwards. Miss Meredith had been of opinion that they did not require so many ushers. The girls insisted on four at least.
Elma was not in the seventh heaven which she had inhabited a few days before. There was something still unravelled about Mr. Symington's att.i.tude.
She was not to know, of course, that he had immediately placed himself in Mr. Leighton's hands in regard to Mabel. That much-startled person only thought of another complication--Mabel, when Elma had set her heart on him! In a disturbed manner he had endeavoured to let Mr. Symington know that he might find difficulties in the way. He begged, above all things, that he might not rush matters.
"Give us time to think a little," he pleaded. "We have had so much of this sort of thing lately."
Mr. Symington would have preferred to have had it out then and there.
"You understand," he said, "that I left this unsaid before, because I thought, in fact I was led definitely to understand that she was engaged to Meredith, and that my presence here was a trouble to her."
"Ah, that's it--perhaps," said Mr. Leighton. "It was not because of Meredith. There may be other reasons."
Mr. Symington's hopes went down at a rush.
When the girls crowded into the room for tea, his greeting and Mabel's consisted of a mere clasp of the hand on either side with no words spoken at all. But Mabel felt suddenly as though she could face the world. Was it strength he had given her by the mere touch of his hand?
She could not raise her eyes to let him or anybody else see what was written there.
The deadlock puzzled the triumphant Elma. Miss Grace comforted her a little. "These things always come right--sooner or later."
These two good friends had not the firmness to probe that remark further, though Elma was dying to ask about Dr. Merryweather.
"I'd like to help them," said Elma instead, "but I should feel like the 'tactful woman' that Mr. Maclean was laughing at. He says that when tactful women write novels they are always making people drop handkerchiefs in order to help the heroine, or having a friend outside or something of that sort at the right moment. It made me feel so silly over sending the invitation to Mr. Symington. Especially," continued she sadly, "since he doesn't seem to be making much use of it. It's very enervating to be tactful, especially when your tact doesn't come off."
Miss Grace looked at her long and kindly.
"Don't bury your sympathies in the cause of others too much, dear," she said. "With some of us, with you and me for instance, it might become more of a weakness perhaps than a real virtue."
Elma immediately thought, "There is something in what Isobel said after all."
Instead of giving voice to it, she said, "I have bothered about Mabs, I know. But then, I haven't any affairs of my own, you see."
"Oh, dear child, never be sure, never be too sure about that," said Miss Grace.
A delightful feeling stole over Elma. Could it be possible that anything exciting could ever happen to herself. But no--how could it?
"I think it's papa always telling us no woman ought to be married until she's twenty-three that de--demoralizes me so," she said. "And lately, since Mabs is nearly that age, he is actually running it on to twenty-five."
"Yes, but they never really mean it," said Miss Grace.
"Well, one thing I intend to see to is that Mr. Symington takes Mabel out of church after the wedding. Sarah wants him. And Sarah is not going to have him."
"I think you are quite right there," said Miss Grace.
Elma got hold of Mr. Symington herself. "I want you to do me a great favour," she said. "I want you to escort Mabel on Tuesday."
"It isn't a favour," he said. He pulled his big shoulders together and looked magnificent. He was browned and tanned with the sun. Only a slight frown between the eyes to be cleared away and then he would be the old Mr. Symington.
"Well, please do it like this. Ask Mabel if you may."
"Now?" asked Mr. Symington.
"If you like," said Elma.
They were on the lawn after dinner, and Mr. Symington in two days had hardly had a glimpse of Mabel, far less any conversation with her.