the wedding was a very quiet and modest affair—a little quieter and more modest, to tell the truth, than quite appealed to stella’s ambitious notions of grandeur, though it was a church wedding, too, with a small reception afterward.

of course every one was tremendously impressed by the bridegroom, and everybody said how sweet the bride looked. aunt alice wept happy tears on people’s shoulders, and between whiles talked faster than any one else.

meade gave his daughter away, and looked very proud, though also a little pathetic in his dress suit.

there were all sorts of nice gifts for the bride, most of which, for the time being, would have to be left behind. and one of the gifts gave stella a real momentary, ungraspable heartache. it was a small cut-glass fruit bowl, and within lay a blank card on which, in cramped scrawl, appeared the single word: jerome.