And that makes me think, we want you to ask Mr. St. John if he
will wear our surplice instead of bringing one of his. We'll do it up
nice before the wedding."
"Oh, that prophetic surplice!" groaned Colette. "It's yesterday, to-day
and forever; I wish something would happen to it, Amarilly. I hate that
surplice!"
"I'm sorry, Miss King, but we all love it. And you see it means a good
deal to Lily Rose; because she has looked at its photograph so long."
"Very well, Amarilly. I yield. St. John shall wear his surplice once
more, and when he does--"
A sudden thought illumined her face. "I believe I will tell him--"
Amarilly deemed it a fitting time to depart, and she hastened to assure
Lily Rose that it was "all right."
"Miss King will speak to Mr. St. John about marrying you, and she will
ask him to wear our surplice. She's going to send you flowers--lilies of
the valley and roses. It all would be perfect, Lily Rose, if only you
had a white dress!"
Lily Rose smiled sweetly, and told Amarilly she was glad to be married
in any dress, and that she should not miss the "reg'ler weddin' fixin's"
nearly as much as Amarilly would mind her not having them. When Amarilly
set her head and heart on anything, however, it was sure to be
accomplished. It was a puzzling problem to equip Lily Rose in the
conventional bridal white vestments, for the bride-to-be was very proud
and independent and wouldn't hearken to Amarilly's plea to be allowed to
contribute toward a new dress.
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