Some fifty
or sixty of the guests came in on the same train, and Burnett and Clover
met them all at the cars and made the majority comfortable in the
different hotels and honored the minority with Aunt Mary's hospitality.
The day was gorgeous. The addition to the house was done and lined with
white and decorated in gold. An orchestra was ensconced behind palms just
as orchestras always covet to be and a magnificent breakfast had been sent
up from the city in its own car with its own service and attendants to
serve it.
There was only one hitch in the entire programme. That was that when they
got to the church Tweedwell did not show up. Jack was distressed even
though Mrs. Rosscott laughed. Mitchell wanted to read the ceremony, but
Aunt Mary was afraid it wouldn't be legal, and Mr. Stebbins agreed with
her. In the end the regular clergyman married them; and just as they were
all filing out they met Tweedwell and Lucinda tearing along, he in his
surplice and she in the black silk dress which Aunt Mary had given her in
celebration of the occasion. They were both too exhausted to be able to
explain for several minutes; but it finally came out (of Lucinda) that
Burnett, whose place it was to have overseen officiating Tweedwell, had
forgotten all about him, and the poor fellow, exhausted by his long
journey, had never awakened until Lucinda, going in to clear up his room,
had let forth a piercing howl of surprise.
So far from dampening anyone's spirits this little _contretemps_ only
seemed to set things off at a livelier pace.
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