"My dear aunt," he answered her, "all that you say is very wise and very kind; but you must not bother about me when your own affairs are so much more important. If I have been too attentive to Miss Drexel—I’m sure I wasn’t aware of it, but I may have been—I will alter that——"
"Oh, Vin, don’t be mean!" Mrs. Ellison cried. "Don’t do anything shabby. You won’t go and quarrel with the girl simply because I ventured to hope something from your manner towards her—you wouldn’t do such a thing as that——"
"Certainly not," said he, in a half-amused way. "Miss Drexel and I are excellent friends——"
"And you will continue to be so!" said Mrs. Ellison, imploringly. "Now, Vincent, promise me! You know there are crises in a woman’s life when she expects a little consideration—when she expects to be petted—and have things a little her own way: well, promise me now you will be very kind to Louie—kinder than ever—why, what an omen at a wedding it would be if my chief attendant and the groomsman were to fall out——"
"Oh, we shan’t fall out, aunt, be sure of that," he said good-naturedly.
"Ah, but I want more," she persisted. "I shall consider myself a horrid mischief-maker if I don’t see that you are more attentive and kind to Louie Drexel than ever. It’s your duty. It’s your place as groomsman. You’ll have to propose their health at the wedding-breakfast; and of course you’ll say something nice about American girls—could you say anything too nice, I wonder?—and you’ll have to say it with an air of conviction. For they’ll expect you to speak well, of course: you, a young member of Parliament; and where could you find a more welcome toast, at a wedding-breakfast, than the toast of the unmarried young ladies? Yes, yes; you’ll have plenty of opportunity of lecturing a sleepy House of Commons about Leasehold Enfranchisement and things of that kind; but this is quite another sort of chance; and I’m looking forward to my nephew distinguishing himself—as he ought to do, when he will have Louie and Anna Drexel listening." And here this astute and insidious adviser ceased, for her future husband came into the room, to pay his last afternoon call.
Whether Vincent spoke well or ill on that auspicious occasion does not concern us here: it only needs to be said that the ceremony, and the quiet little festivities following, all passed off very satisfactorily; and that bride and bridegroom (the former being no novice) drove away radiant and happy, amid the usual symbolic showers. It was understood they were to break their journey southward at Paris for a few days; and Vincent—who had meanwhile slipped along to his hotel to change his attire—went up to the railway station to see them off. He was surprised to find both the Drexel girls there.