# Mary Louise at Dorfield/Chapter 3
### CHAPTER III MATRON OF HONOR

“We were speaking of Mary Louise’s wedding when you came in,” Alora said to Mrs. Markle.
“And Danny’s!” put in Mary Louise.
“Oh, of course, Danny’s! Danny may be a wonder but he doesn’t count much on his own wedding day. That day is the bride’s,” laughed Alora.
“You are to have a church wedding, I fancy,” said Mrs. Markle.
“No, we are to be married here at home. Grandpa Jim much prefers it and so do Danny and I.”
“Oh, then of course it must be at home. Your house is large but the rooms do not open into each other for the best effect for a wedding. Why don’t you be married out of doors?” suggested Mrs. Markle. “It would be lovely. The guests could stand all along these terraces or anywhere they chose and the bridal party could approach through the opening in that wonderful old yew hedge. It would be a beautiful picture. I can see it now!” and she waved her hand towards the fine old sunken garden which was the pride of Colonel Hathaway and his granddaughter.
“The very thing!” exclaimed Elizabeth. “Don’t you think so, Irene?”
“It would be lovely.”
“Grandpa Jim would like it a lot, I am sure,” said Mary Louise.
“You are to have bridesmaids, of course,” continued Mrs. Markle. “Let them dress in pastel shades of palest and softest hue and carry sweet peas.”
“That will be great if we have different colors,” put in Elizabeth. “I am crazy about being a bridesmaid, but I must say I am not crazy about going around with about seven twins for the rest of the summer.”
“You are to have eight bridesmaids, then?” asked Mrs. Markle as she and her hostess went down to the garden to plan.
“Yes, eight besides my maid of honor,” explained Mary Louise. “You see, I couldn’t bear to leave out any of the girls.”
“And who is the maid of honor?”
“Irene MacFarlane! She is the very best friend I have in the whole world.” “But how can she be a maid of honor in a chair?”
“I don’t know, but she must be. In the house she can roll around quite easily. I am not sure about it out of doors but, if she can’t, we will abandon the idea of having it out in the garden.” Mary Louise spoke quite decidedly.
“That would be a pity.”
“Yes, but I must have Irene.”
Mary Louise had always said if she ever married she would have her dear friend as maid of honor and Irene had felt a fierce pride in the fact that she was chosen. She realized the moment the plan was suggested of having the ceremony out of doors that this honor was not to be hers. She could run her chair with great skill on smooth floors but she felt it would be awkward indeed to try to do it in the garden and then she felt that in some way she would mar the picture. She too could close her eyes and see the effect of the outdoor wedding with the old yew hedge as a background and the beds of old-fashioned flowers adding to the beauty of the scene; the bride in white and the eight bridesmaids in the pastel shades suggested by Hortense Markle.
“It will be beautiful and I must quietly get out of the picture,” Irene said to herself. It hurt her to think of it. The girl was sure she would never marry herself, nobody would ever want to marry such a poor little deformed person. She had settled that long ago, but it would have been pleasant to be the next one to the bride. Even that pleasure must be taken from her and she herself must be the one to put it away. She looked sadly after the girls as they trooped into the garden to join Mary Louise and Mrs. Markle.
“If she only had not suggested the outdoor wedding!” she sighed. “But I must not harbor resentment against Mrs. Markle. She is charming and so clever. Instead I must try to like her. I wish I could sew as well as she can.”
She picked up the dainty camisole whereon Hortense had embroidered the exquisite rose and examined it closely. She took from her basket a little magnifying glass she occasionally made use of in doing very fine embroidery. Through the glass she could see where the patch had been inserted.
“I must not look at people through a magnifying glass,” she mused. “If it magnified their perfections it would be all right, but it seems only to show up their faults. I have shown a poor spirit myself this morning, and if I turned the magnifying glass on my own soul, it would disclose many ugly patches and gashes.” She put her hand over her eyes and offered a silent prayer for a just and contrite spirit.
When the girls came back from the garden, they found Irene with a smile on her sensitive face and on her lips a gay little tune she was humming.
“I do hope you have decided to have the wedding out of doors,” she cried. “If it is out of doors, I can see it too, as I will be a spectator. From my chair I can see the procession as it comes through the yew hedge and follows the garden walk.”
“But, Irene—” began Mary Louise.
“Don’t but Irene me,” laughed the girl. “As for bridesmaids: they are like the purple cow to me, ‘I’d rather see than be one.’ Let me be a kind of vestal virgin, stationed near the altar.”
“But I have always said that I would have no maid of honor but you,” declared Mary Louise, “and I won’t.”
“You shall have to swallow your words then, my dear,” insisted Irene.
“If not a maid, you might have a matron,” suggested Hortense.
“Certainly,” agreed Irene.
“Nobody could take the place of Irene,” objected Mary Louise.
“But, honey, a place in a wedding procession is not a place in your heart,” whispered Irene, drawing her friend close to her.
“I have heard brides say that, unless they have an attendant, the thing is hard to go through with,” said Hortense. “Of course you might go on your grandfather’s arm, but it is not quite so picturesque as having all girls. Black coats, when all is told, are ugly affairs.”
“Grandpa Jim would rather not be too much in evidence, I think. The truth of the matter is he is afraid he might get stage fright. He says it is hard enough on him to have to give me away. Will you be my matron of honor, Hortense?”
“But, my dear, you must have closer and dearer friends than I am among the young married people. Nobody who loves you more, but—”
“Please,” begged Mary Louise.
“Why, of course! I feel more flattered than I can say.”
And so it was settled.
“We must plan the dresses, making each color the one the wearer prefers. I must wear pale grey, as I am merely the bride’s shadow. I must not show much.”
“And I want pink!” cried one.
“And I blue!” said another. And so on until all the colors in the rainbow and some others were appropriated either by the girls present for themselves or for the absent members.
“Suppose it rains!” suggested Elizabeth.
“But it couldn’t and it wouldn’t!” cried Lucile. “Not on Mary Louise’s wedding day.”
Irene was quietly gathering up her sewing things preparatory to her departure. As the girls discussed their bridesmaids’ dresses, she glanced at Hortense and could not help noting a kind of triumph in her bearing.