'Oh, Teddy! Teddy!' exclaims Philippa, opening the door, 'do be a good
boy, or else you know, you could not be my page.'

Teddy, surprised at his aunt's sudden appearance, ceases to splash about
and regards her gravely.

'I shall be your page if I'm good then,' he says.

'Certainly,' replies Philippa, 'get out of the bath now and after your
breakfast you shall come to my room.'

Teddy looks longingly at the water and then at her, finally with a deep
sigh he gets out of the bath and submits to being rubbed dry by Marie.

The morning wears on and five minutes after the appointed time Lippa
calm and very lovely in her bridal attire, walks up the aisle of St
P---- leaning on her brother's arm, and there before the altar takes
James Dalrymple to be her husband, for better, for worse, till death
them do part.

Into further details there is no need to go; weddings are all alike, you
will say, except, of course, when you happen to be one of the chief
parties concerned. There was of course, the orthodox best man,
bridesmaids, and spectators, the lengthy signing of the register and
last but not least Mendelssohn's wedding march. I wonder how the world
could have got on without it!

* * * * *