Up went Barry's two hands, and with them Neil's and Paula's.
“What about you, miss?” asked Paula, turning wrathfully toward Phyllis.
“Barry,” she said, giving him her hand, “I have decided to be married to-morrow. I shall wire mamma.”
“By Jove!” said Paula, “you Britishers are the limit, for stolid, unemotional people. Here am I shouting my head off like a baseball fan, to get this thing put through, and you quietly walk up and announce that everything's fixed but the band.”
The wires to London that afternoon were kept busy, a message going to Mrs. Vincent from each member of the party, but it was felt that that from Phyllis to her mother was really all that was necessary.
“Dearest Mamma--Barry and I are to be married tomorrow. English law makes London impossible, as Barry has only five days. I am very happy, feeling sure you approve. Our dearest, dearest love.
A long wire also went from Barry to Mr. Robertson, the minister of the little church, where they had spent such a delightful hour that morning, but this wire Barry showed to no one.
The bride's bouquet was from the manse garden, a shower of white roses, no purer and no sweeter than the bride herself. At the church door, the party stood shrinking from the moment of parting. At length Paula took matters in hand.
“As usual,” she said, “the heavy work falls to me. Dear Mrs. Robertson”--to the minister's wife--“goodbye. I shall always love you and your dear little church.”
She put her arms around the minister's wife and kissed her.
“Oh, we're going to see them off,” said that lady. “Lead the way, Captain Dunbar, please,” she added, with a bright smile, giving him a little push.
“Come, Phyllis,” said Barry offering his wife his arm, and they started off down the street toward the lake.
“Will you permit me?” said the minister, offering his arm to Paula, who in mystified silence took it without a word.
“May I have the pleasure?” said Mr. Howland, offering his arm to Mrs. Robertson.
“Come, Captain Fraser,” she said gaily, offering him the other arm.
“Just what is happening to me, I don't pretend to know,” said Paula, “but whatever it is, America is in this thing to the finish.”
Barry stopped at the boathouse landing. There, tied to the dock, floated the Canadian canoe, laden with tent and camp outfit, and with extra baskets provided from the manse.