# The Tailor-Made Girl/At a Church Wedding

AT A CHURCH WEDDING.
[Whispering in the pews while waiting for the bride.]
Miss Décolletée.—What a stupid usher, poking us in here with these frumps!
Miss Pompon.—My dress will be ruined—and I can't see a thing.
Miss Décolletée.—There's very little floral decoration.
Miss Pompon.—And only one clergyman in the chancel.
Miss Décolletée.—Is that so? I felt sure Nell would have an "assisted" ceremony.
Miss Pompon.—Oh, I expected at least one Bishop. Nell has been so awfully High, lately.
Miss Décolletée.—Yes, it's been quite amusing, hasn't it?
Miss Pompon.—Particularly when one remembers she was so Low a year ago she didn't even bow her head in the creed.
Miss Décolletée.—Oh, that was when she was after that young Presbyterian swell, you know, who married Kitty Foster.
Miss Pompon.—Have you seen the presents?
Miss Décolletée.—Oh, yes. Some quite pretty.
Miss Pompon.—Ye-es: the groom's is nothing much.
Miss Décolletée.—A pearl cross—quite churchy and touching.
Miss Pompon.—Very small pearls; I thought it quite a skimpy affair.
Miss Décolletée.—It was really rich, do you know, to hear Mrs. Carlton go on.
Miss Pompon.—Oh, I suppose so.
Miss Décolletée.—The day I was over there she came in with such an air. "Eleanor, my dear," she said, "don't fatigue yourself over that embroidery." Then she turned to me: "She has so much before her, you know; to-night is the church rehearsal, and afterward Mrs. Clarke gives a supper to the bridal-party." All with such delicious complacency!
Miss Pompon.—Oh, the entire family have acted as if no one was ever married before.
Groom's Mother (raising her eyeglass).—My dear, is that young man over there in naval uniform?
Groom's Father.—Well, yes, he is an ensign.
Groom's Mother (with crushing sweetness).—Dear Mrs. Carlton has talked so much about their relatives in the Navy. He must be them—I don't see any others.
Groom's Sister (married).—Mama, I don't think Lander is to play tonight at the house.
Groom's Mother (sharply).—Why?
Sister.—I asked Nell, to-day, how many of Lander's men would be there, and she was quite embarrassed; said she didn't know, as "Papa arranged all that."
Groom's Mother.—I shall be mortified to death. The least they can do, marrying their daughter as brilliantly as they are, is to give her a perfectly appointed wedding.
Groom's Sister (unmarried).—Mama, this is Nelly's fourth season. Edith Connor told me so yesterday. She came out the same autumn with Edith's sister, Mrs. Jarvis, you know.
Groom's Mother.—Oh, I don't doubt it; but, of course, you spoke of her having been a year abroad, and a year in mourning?
Groom's Sister (unmarried).—Oh, yes, indeed. I quite snubbed Edith.
Bride's Mother.—Now, Mr. Carlton, don't fail to be on the watch when the minister asks, "Who giveth this woman?" You must step right forward, and don't tread on Nelly's train.
Bride's Father.—I wish the dayvilish fuss was over. Did you tell the caterer that untouched pieces were to be returned and allowed for?
Bride's Mother.—No; I did not. Blank never serves in that way, and if I had to have second-class music I was bound to have Blank cater. Those Clarkes are so supercilious; they'll be sure to discover that Lander isn't playing.
Bride's Father.—Blankety blank the whole lot! I'm paying the shot, not old Clarke. I wish he was!
Organist (to Friend in loft).—What time is it?
Friend.—8.35
Organist.—My contract was from 7.30 to 8.30—it'll cost just about ten dollars more to keep me here another quarter of an hour.
Bride (in lobby, to Sister, who is maid of honor).—Is the church packed? I hope so. Tell the ushers to be sure and walk slow enough. Now, Elizabeth, if you don't keep step with me I'll give my old black velvet to Kate. Pull the lace out on my train to show the pattern a little better. Are you sure the pillow at the altar is just in the right place? Signal that organist to begin the wedding-march. Is dear Mother Clarke safe in her place? Stingy old thing, she'll be furious when she sees I didn't wear the skimpy little lace flounce, "the one, my dear, I wore on my wedding-day." A pretty bride she must have been. Wait a minute till I get my face straight. There! am I looking down enough? Come on, real slow, and do do do keep step.
Minister (to slow music).—Those whom God hath joined together let no man put asunder.