Mrs. Merrick quickly recovered her accustomed spirits during the excitement of those anxious weeks preceding the wedding.  Cards were issued to “the very best people in town;” the trousseau involved anxiety by day and restless dreams by night—­all eminently enjoyable; there were entertainments to be attended and congratulations to be received from every side.

Society, suspecting nothing of the tragedy so lately enacted in these young lives, was especially gracious to the betrothed.  Louise was the recipient of innumerable merry “showers” from her girl associates, and her cousins, Patsy and Beth, followed in line with “glass showers” and “china showers” until the prospective bride was stocked with enough wares to establish a “house-furnishing emporium,” as Uncle John proudly declared.

Mr. Merrick, by this time quite reconciled and palpably pleased at the approaching marriage of his eldest niece, was not to be outdone in “social stunts” that might add to her happiness.  He gave theatre parties and banquets without number, and gave them with the marked success that invariably attended his efforts.

The evening before the wedding Uncle John and the Major claimed Arthur for their own, and after an hour’s conference between the three that left the young fellow more happy and grateful than ever before, he was entertained at his last “bachelor dinner,” where he made a remarkable speech and was lustily cheered.

Of course Beth and Patsy were the bridesmaids, and their cousin Kenneth Forbes came all the way from Elmhurst to be Arthur’s best man.  No one ever knew what it cost Uncle John for the wonderful decorations at the church and home, for the music, the banquet and all the other details which he himself eagerly arranged on a magnificent scale and claimed was a part of his “wedding present.”

When it was all over, and the young people had driven away to begin the journey of life together, the little man put a loving arm around Beth and Patsy and said, between smiles and tears: 

“Well, my dears, I’ve lost one niece, and that’s a fact; but I’ve still two left.  How long will they remain with me, I wonder?”

“Dear me, Uncle John,” said practical Patsy; “your necktie’s untied and dangling; like a shoestring!  I hope it wasn’t that way at the wedding.”

“It was, though,” declared the Major, chuckling.  “If all three of ye get married, my dears, poor Uncle John will come to look like a scarecrow —­and all that in the face of swell society!”

“Aren’t we about through with swell society now?” asked Mr. Merrick, anxiously.  “Aren’t we about done with it?  It caused all our troubles, you know.”

“Society,” announced Beth, complacently, “is an excellent thing in the abstract.  It has its black sheep, of course; but I think no more than any other established class of humanity.”

“Dear me!” cried Uncle John; “you once denounced society.”