“I know he is.  Harry Edgham wasn’t ever very strong, and I’ll warrant his wife has made him go out when he didn’t feel equal to it, and she has had stacks of company, and he must have had to strain every nerve to meet expenses, poor man!  You’d better go, Maria.”

“Of course, I am going,” replied Maria.

That evening she went over and told Lily that she could not be her maid of honor, that her father was sick, and she would be obliged to go home as soon as school closed.  George Ramsey was calling, and Lily’s face had a lovely pink radiance.  One could almost seem to see the kisses of love upon it.  George acted a little perturbed at sight of Maria.  He remained silent during Lily’s torrent of regrets and remonstrances, but he followed Maria to the door and said to her how sorry he was that her father was ill.

“I hope it is nothing serious,” he said.

“Thank you,” said Maria.  “I hope not, but I don’t think my father is very strong, and I feel that I ought to go.”

“Of course,” said George.  “We shall be sorry to miss you, but, if your father is ill, you ought to go.”

“Do you think one day would make any difference?” said Lily, pleadingly, putting up her lovely face at Maria.

“It would mean three days, you know, dear,” Maria said.

“Of course it would,” said George; “and Miss Edgham is entirely right, Lily.”

“I don’t want Fanny Ellwell one bit for maid of honor,” Lily said, poutingly.

Maria did not pay any attention.  She was thinking anxiously of her father.  She realized that he must be very ill or he would not have written her as he had done.  It was not like Harry Edgham to deprive any one of any prospective pleasure, and he had no reason to think that being maid of honor at this wedding was anything but a pleasure to Maria.  She felt that the illness must be something serious.  Her school was to close in three days, and she was almost too impatient to wait.

“Ida Edgham ought to be ashamed of herself for not writing and letting you know that your father was sick before,” said Aunt Maria.  “She and Lily Merrill are about of a piece.”

“Maybe father didn’t want her to,” said Maria.  “Father knew my school didn’t close until next Thursday.  If I thought he was very ill I would try to get a substitute and start off before.”

“But I know your father wouldn’t have written for you to come unless he wasn’t well and wanted to see you,” said Aunt Maria.  “I shouldn’t be a mite surprised, too, if he suspected that Ida would write you not to come, and thought he’d get ahead of her.”

Aunt Maria was right.  In the next mail came a letter from Ida, saying that she supposed Maria would not think she could come home for such a short vacation, especially a she had to stay a little longer in Amity for the wedding, and how sorry they all were, and how they should look forward to the long summer vacation.