“Certainly not,” laughed Dick.  “I should rather by far marry the right woman in a black calico than the wrong one in the handsomest of white satins; even with Brussels or point lace on it in abundance.”

“Well, then, I may feel entirely easy,” Maud said, echoing his laugh, “for I shall certainly be better and more appropriately attired than in a black dress, or calico of any colour.”

“Of course you will,” said Grace, “I think that dress of yours is lovely and extremely becoming.  No one need be ashamed of such a wedding dress as that.”

“And I am determined that she shall have a lovely wedding,” said Mrs. Sue Dinsmore; “as much like what I have been told Sister Elsie’s was as possible.  The house shall be trimmed with abundance of flowers, and the bride and groom shall stand in the very same spot that their predecessors did; and I dare say the refreshments will be pretty nearly a reproduction of what were served that evening; as nearly as I can manage it, at all events.”

“It really won’t matter if there are some added luxuries, my dear,” her husband remarked in a jesting tone, and with a twinkle of fun in his eye.

“No, I presume not; it will be better to err on that side than on the other,” she returned demurely.  “I mean, however, to make up to poor Maud for the lack of a new wedding dress; at least so far as I can.”

“As I do,” said Mrs. Travilla, smiling kindly upon the expectant bride.

“And it is only the pressure of Dick’s haste—­the lack of time for it—­that keeps her brothers from providing her with as handsome a wedding outfit as could be desired,” remarked Chester, looking slightly annoyed and hurt.

“Yes, Chester, we all know that,” a chorus of voices exclaimed, his Uncle Dinsmore adding:  “And as we are all relatives or connections, it really matters very little.  Dick may be thankful—­and I don’t in the least doubt that he is—­to get Maud, without considering how she is attired, or of what her wardrobe consists.”

“I say amen to that, uncle,” smiled Dick, “and shall only enjoy speedily supplying anything lacking in her wardrobe.  I’ll be glad, indeed, to have the right.”

“Very good in you, Dick; but it isn’t the bridegroom’s place to supply the trousseau,” said Chester, only half mollified.  “And there is no occasion, seeing her brothers are able to do it, and willing, to say nothing of her own means.”

“Oh, Ches, don’t be vexed,” said Maud.  “It will all be right; I have a very good wardrobe, and don’t mean to let Dick buy anything for me this long while.”

At which Dick laughed meaningly, as much as to say:  “In regard to that I shall do as I please or think best.”

Chester was somewhat out of sorts; he did not like to have his sister hurried into marriage without a trousseau, and he had noticed something that displeased him still more in Captain Keith’s manner toward Lucilla Raymond.  It was hard, very hard, he thought, that her father would not allow him to tell her the story of his love.  He would have been still more indignant had he known that Keith was allowed that privilege.