“It’s just the sweetest wedding,” Mrs. Ashe told her brother.  “And the wonderful thing is that everything comes so naturally.  Katy is precisely her usual self,—­only a little more so.”

“I’m under great obligations to Amy for having that fever,” was Ned’s somewhat indirect answer; but his sister understood what he meant.

Breakfast over, the guests discreetly removed themselves; and the whole family joined in resetting the table for the luncheon, which was to be at two, Katy and Ned departing in the boat at four.  It was a simple but abundant repast, with plenty of delicious home-cooked food,—­oysters and salads and cold chicken; fresh salmon from Lake Superior; a big Virginia ham baked to perfection, red and translucent to its savory centre; hot coffee, and quantities of Debby’s perfect rolls.  There were strawberries, also, and ice-cream, and the best of home-made cake and jellies, and everywhere vases of fresh roses to perfume the feast.  When all was arranged, there was still time for Katy to make Cousin Helen a visit, and then go to her room for a quiet rest before dressing; and still that same unhurried air pervaded the house.

There had been a little discussion the night before as to just how the bride should make her appearance at the decisive moment; but Katy had settled it by saying simply that she should come downstairs, and Ned could meet her at the foot of the staircase.

“It is the simplest way,” she said; “and you know I don’t want any fuss.  I will just come down.”

“I dare say she’s right,” remarked Rose; “but it seems to me to require a great deal of courage.”

And after all, it didn’t.  The simple and natural way of doing a thing generally turns out the easiest.  Clover helped Katy to put on the wedding-gown of soft crape and creamy white silk.  It was trimmed with old lace and knots of ribbon, and Katy wore with it two or three white roses which Ned had brought her, and a pearl pendant which was his gift.  Then Clover had to go downstairs to receive the guests, and see that Cousin Helen’s sofa was put in the right place; and Rose, who remained behind, had the pleasure of arranging Katy’s veil.  The yellow-white of the old blonde was very becoming, and altogether, the effect, though not “stylish,” was very sweet.  Katy was a little pale, but otherwise exactly like her usual self, with no tremors or self-consciousness.

Presently little Rose came up with a message.

“Aunty Tover says dat Dr. Tone has tum, and everything is weddy, and you’d better tum down,” she announced.

Katy gave Rose a last kiss, and went down the hall.  But little Rose was so fascinated by the appearance of the white dress and veil that she kept fast hold of Katy’s hand, disregarding her mother’s suggestion that she should slip down the back staircase, as she herself proposed to do.

“No, I want to do with my Aunt Taty,” she persisted.