Thanksgiving. The school would close on the Friday before.

Ida Slome possessed, along with an entire self-satisfaction, a vein
of pitiless sense, which enabled her to see herself as others might
see her, and which saved her from the follies often incident to the
self-satisfied. She considered herself a beauty; she thought, and
with reason, that she would be well worth looking at in her
wedding-clothes, but she also told herself that it was quite possible
that some remarks might be made to her disparagement if she had the
wedding to which her inclination prompted her. She longed for a white
gown, veil, bridesmaids, and the rest, but she knew better. She knew
that more could be made of her beauty and her triumph if she
curtailed her wish. She realized that Harry's wife had been dead only
a little more than a year, and that, although still a beauty, she was
not a young girl, and she steered clear of criticism and ridicule.

The ceremony was performed in the Presbyterian church Monday
afternoon. Ida wore a prune-colored costume, and a hat trimmed with
pansies. She was quite right in thinking that she was adorable in it,
and there was also in the color, with its shade of purple, a delicate
intimation of the remembrance of mourning in the midst of joy. The
church was filled with people, but there were no bridesmaids. Some of
Ida's scholars acted as ushers. Wollaston Lee was among them. To
Maria's utter astonishment, he did not seem to realize his trying
position as a rejected suitor. He was attired in a new suit, and wore
a white rosebud in his coat, and Maria glanced at him with mingled
admiration and disdain.

Maria sat directly in front of the pulpit, with Mrs. Jonas White and
Lillian. Mrs. White had a new gown of some thin black stuff,