there were the dainty flower girl, little Kate, the
charming maid of honor, Billy, the stalwart,
handsome best man, Bertram, to say nothing of
the delicately beautiful bride, who looked like
some fairy visitor from another world in the floating
shimmer of her gossamer silk and tulle. There
was, too, not quite unnoticed, the bridegroom;
tall, of distinguished bearing, and with features
that were clear cut and-to-day-rather pale.

Then came the reception--the ``women and
confusion ``of Cyril's fears--followed by the
going away of the bride and groom with its merry
warfare of confetti and old shoes.

At four o'clock, however, with only William
and Bertram remaining for guests, something like
quiet descended at last on the little house.

``Well, it's over,'' sighed Billy, dropping
exhaustedly into a big chair in the living-room.

``And _well_ over,'' supplemented Aunt Hannah,
covering her white shawl with a warmer blue one.

``Yes, I think it was,'' nodded Kate. ``It
was really a very pretty wedding.''

``With your help, Kate--eh?'' teased William.