Susan sympathized, laughed, chattered, stood still under dressmakers’ hands, dashed off notes, rushed into town for final purchases, opened gifts, consulted with everyone,—­all in a golden, whirling dream.  Sometimes a cold little doubt crossed her mind, and she wondered whether she was taking all this too much for granted, whether she really loved Billy, whether they should not be having serious talks now, whether changes, however hard, were not wiser “before than after”?

But it was too late for that now.  The big wheels were set in motion, the day was coming nearer and more near.  Susan’s whole being was tuned to the great event; she felt herself the pivot upon which all her world turned.  A hundred things a day brought the happy color to her face, stopped her heart-beats for a second.  She had a little nervous qualm over the announcements; she dreamed for a moment over the cards that bore the new name of Mrs. William Jerome Oliver.  “It seems so—­so funny to have these things here in my trunk, before I’m married!” said Susan.

Anna came home, gravely radiant; Betsy exulted in a new gown of flimsy embroidered linen; Philip, in the character of best man, referred to a list of last-moment reminders.

Three days more—­two days more—­then Susan was to be married to-morrow.  She and Billy had enough that was practical to discuss the last night, before he must run for his boat.  She went with him to the door.

“I’m going to be crazy about my wife!” whispered Billy, with his arms about her.  Susan was not in a responsive mood.

“I’m dead!” she said wearily, resting her head against his shoulder like a tired child.

She went upstairs slowly to her room.  It was strewn with garments and hats and cardboard boxes; Susan’s suitcase, with the things in it that she would need for a fortnight in the woods, was open on the table.  The gas flared high, Betsey at the mirror was trying a new method of arranging her hair.  Mrs. Carroll was packing Susan’s trunk, Anna sat on the bed.

“Sue, dear,” said the mother, “are you going to be warm enough up in the forest?  It may be pretty cold.”

“Oh, we’ll have fires!” Susan said.

“Well, you are the coolest!” ejaculated Betsey.  “I should think you’d feel so funny, going up there alone with Billy—–­”

“I’d feel funnier going up without him,” Susan said equably.  She got into a loose wrapper, braided her hair.  Mrs. Carroll and Betsey kissed her and went away; Susan and Anna talked for a few minutes, then Susan went to sleep.  But Anna lay awake for a long time thinking,—­thinking what it would be like to know that only a few hours lay between the end of the old life and the beginning of the new.

“My wedding day.”  Susan said it slowly when she awakened in the morning.  She felt that the words should convey a thrill, but somehow the day seemed much like any other day.  Anna was gone, there was a subdued sound of voices downstairs.