— XXIV —HASTE TO THE WEDDING
It was a ‘pretty’ wedding. The number of persons actually concerned in it was six. There was the bride, who looked a ‘picture,’ in a dress which would have sat well upon a queen. No expense had been spared upon that costume.
“You’re only going to be married once in your life,” Mr. Smithers had declared. “At least, that’s the average expectation in cases of this kind; and you’re going to come to me like a dressmaker’s dream.”
And she did. Netta was more than perplexed by the glorious shape which, before it was finished, that dream assumed.
“You know it’s positively wicked to wear a dress like this only once. I ought to be married again in it, and before the fashions change; and however shall I manage that?”
“Oh, wear it to go to court in.”
“To go where?”
