This latter clause, however, aroused Miss Sibby's ire. To talk of paying her! And in the presence of her genteel neighbors, too!

"No, ma'am!" exclaimed the old lady. "No, ma'am, you don't pay me nothing!

Not if I know it, sez I! You're welkim, ma'am, sez I, to the very best in the house, as long as you choose to honor me with your company. But you don't pay for it! No, ma'am! No! Sybilla Bayard is poor enough, the Lord knows, sez I! And she has fallen far enough from her high estate, sez I!

She who was descended from the great Duke of England; but she don't sell her hospitality, sez I! Not the descendant from the Duke of England don't, sez I!"

Poor Miss Sibby! Poor, simple old body! She was very much laughed at on account of her boasted ancestor, the "Duke of England." Yet her mistake was not so great as it seemed, for it was only the slight mistake of using the definite article "the" for the indefinite article "a," nor were her claims quite so ridiculous as they appeared to be, as will soon be proved.

"I beg your pardon, ma'am, I'm sure. I didn't mean no offense whatever!

But--are you--descended from the Duke of England?" inquired the strange guest, opening her eyes wide with astonishment.

"I am," replied Miss Sibby, with great dignity. "And I'll prove it. My father was a Bayard, and his mother was a Barbar, and her great-great-grandfather was Henry Howard, third son of Thomas, Duke of England. These two ladies can testify to that, I reckon."

The stranger turned wondering eyes upon the two sisters.

Miss Grandiere answered by saying:

"Miss Bayard means a duke of England, and, as a mere matter of detail, the fourth Duke of Norfolk, one of whose younger sons came over in 1634 with the Calverts."

"Duke of Norfolk be hanged! Why, Norfolk is in this country, over yonder in Virginny somewhere, and we haven't got any dukes here! no, ma'am. My grandmother's great-grandfather was the son of the Duke of England!"

persisted the old descendant of the Howards.

"But, my dear Miss Sibby, England is not a duchy!"

"Who said it was Dutchy! I know the Dutch come from Holland. I know something, if I am a poor, ignorant old 'oman, fallen from my high estate.

And I know as I am descended from the Duke of England, and n.o.body shall take that prop from underneath of me! It has supported me in many a hard trial of life!"

"No, no one shall take it from you," said Miss Grandiere, yielding the point.

At this moment the door opened, admitting a fine, tall, dark-eyed and dark-haired young man, with a bright, merry, mischievous countenance.

He bowed to the ladies, threw his sailor hat upon the floor, and went and kissed his Aunt Sibby, and then lifted Rosemary in his arms and kissed her. Finally he shook hands again all around.

"Glad to see you back, Roland!" said Miss Grandiere.

"Welcome home, my boy!" said Mrs. Hedge.

"Did you get me a card to the wedding?" inquired the Widow Wright.

"Yes--that is, Le Force got it for me. I could not have got it, you know.

Here are three--one for you, one for auntie, and one for myself," said the young sailor, displaying the elegant cards of silver letters on white satin tablets.

"Then you are all going to the wedding?" said Mrs. Hedge.

"Yes, I reckon so now; though dear knows I didn't expect no invitation.

But I reckon it was a kind thought of that young Le to send me one," said Miss Sibby.

"I think it very strange that the young man should be able to take the least interest in that wedding. I should think he would keep as far from the house and as far from the church as possible!" said Mrs. Hedge.

"Why, he is going to be groomsman!" put in young Bayard, laughing.

"No!" exclaimed in one breath all the women except Miss Grandiere, who quietly remarked:

"It is, probably, as I suspected. That childish engagement amounted to nothing. The childish affection faded from both hearts, and the young man was as well pleased to be off it as the young lady was."

"Yes, mebbe so, indeed. But where is Le this afternoon? I thought as he was coming home with you," inquired Miss Sibby.

"No; he couldn't. He had something else to do," replied Roland.

While they talked the one servant woman of Miss Sibby was coming and going between kitchen and parlor, bringing in dishes of fried chicken and fried ham, plates of hot biscuits and India cakes, plates of pickles, preserves, b.u.t.ter, cheese and all that goes to make up the edibles of a rustic tea table for company.

When the teapot was brought in, last of all, Miss Sibby went to the head of the board, and heartily invited the guests to be seated.

They accepted without delay. And were soon too busily engaged with their teacups to carry on the conversation about the wedding. Each one of the company present could have testified that not one of their number slighted the delicacies set before them by Miss Sibby.

When tea was over and it was growing dark, Mrs. Hedge and Miss Grandiere arose to take leave.

Mr. Roland Bayard insisted on seeing them safely through the woods of Oldfield.

So, when well wrapped up in their warm outer garments, they took leave of Miss Sibby and her guest, and set out for Oldfield, young Bayard gallantly escorting the two sisters on their walk, and the negro boy, Dan, leading the horse on which Rosemary rode.

They reached Oldfield in good time.

Young Bayard declined their invitation to enter, but promised to call soon, and so bade them good-night at the door.

CHAPTER XX

THE WEDDING DAY

"Mother; Oh, mother! Give me something to help me to go through this day--something to stupefy--something to deaden me!"

It was Odalite's voice.

She had arisen from a sleepless bed, and come into her mother's room as soon as she had heard her father leave it.

She was, perhaps, the whitest, coldest, saddest bride that had ever seen a wedding morn.

Mrs. Force was standing before her dressing-gla.s.s, engaged in braiding her own bright hair. She turned and looked at her daughter again, with the often-recurring thought:

"Yes, yes, if it were not for her father's sake, I would rather dress my child for her burial than for this bridal."

She took the girl in her arms and kissed her, asking tenderly:

"What is it, dear?"