of the pink caps and a pink matinée over a miraculously frail
nightdress, with Osborn hopelessly surprised and admiring, they used
to say to each other, while the bride dispensed the tea:

"Isn't it all _nice_? Did you ever imagine anything _could_
be so nice?"

When they descended to breakfast, very fresh and spruce, under the
eyes of such servants as they could never expect to hire themselves,
they looked at each other across the table for two, and touched each
other's foot under it and asked: "Doesn't it seem extraordinary to be
breakfasting together like this?"

And when one of the cars from the hotel garage was ordered round to
take them for a run, and they snuggled side by side on well-sprung
cushions such as they would probably never ride upon again, they held
hands and exclaimed under their breath: "This is fine, isn't it? I
wish this could last for ever! Some day, when our ship comes in, we'll
have this make of car."

And when they walked the length of the pier together, two well-clad
and well-looking young people, they would gaze out to sea with the
same vision, see the infinite prospects of the horizon and say
profoundly: "We're out at last on the big voyage. Didn't our
engagement seem endless? But now--we're off!"

For dinner, in the great dining-room, with the orchestra playing dimly
in the adjacent Palm Court, Mrs. Osborn Kerr would put on the
ineffable wedding gown, and all the other guests and the servants,
with experienced eyes, would know it for what it was; and Mr. Osborn