CHAPTER XXX
A WEDDING ON WHEELS
The commotion of the matrimony-mad women brought the men trooping infrom the smoking room and there was much circumstance of decoratingthe scene with white satin ribbons, a trifle crumpled and dim ofluster. Mrs. Whitcomb waved them at Mallory with a laugh:
"Recognize these?"
He nodded dismally. His own funeral baked meats were coldly furnishingforth a wedding breakfast for Ira Lathrop. Mrs. Wellington was movingabout distributing kazoos and Mrs. Temple had an armload of old shoes,some of which had thumped Mallory on an occasion which seemed soancient as to be almost prehistoric.
Fosdick was howling to the porter to get some rice, quick!
"How many portions does you approximate?"
"All you've got."
"Boiled or fried?"
"Any old way." The porter ran forward to the dining-car for theammunition.
Mrs. Temple whispered to her husband: "Too bad you're not officiating,Walter." But he cautioned silence:
"Hush! I'm on my vacation."
The train was already coming into Ogden. Noises were multiplying andfrom the increase of passing objects, the speed seemed to be taking ona spurt. The bell was clamoring like a wedding chime in a steeple.
Mrs. Wellington was on a chair fastening a ribbon round one of thelamps, and Mrs. Whitcomb was on another chair braiding the bell ropewith withered orange branches, when Ashton, with kazoo all ready,called out:
"What tune shall we play?"
"I prefer the Mendelssohn Wedding March," said Mrs. Whitcomb, but Mrs.Wellington glared across at her.
"I've always used the Lohengrin."
"We'll play 'em both," said Dr. Temple, to make peace.
Mrs. Fosdick murmured to her spouse: "The old Justice of the Peacedidn't give us any music at all," and received in reward one of hismost luscious-eyed looks, and a whisper: "But he gave us each other."
"Now and then," she pouted.
"But where are the bride and groom?"
"Here they come--all ready," cried Ashton, and he beat time whilesome of the guests kazooed at Mendelssohn's and some Wagner's bridalmelodies, and others just made a noise.
Ira Lathrop and Anne Gattle, looking very sheepish, crowded throughthe narrow corridor and stood shamefacedly blushing like two schoolchildren about to sing a duet.
The train jolted to a dead stop. The conductor called into the car:"Ogden! All out for Ogden!" and everybody stood watching and waiting.
Ira, seeing Mallory, edged close and whispered: "Stand by to catch theminister on the rebound."
But Mallory turned away. What use had he now for ministers? His planswere shattered ruins.
The porter came flying in with two large bowls of rice, and shouting,"Here comes the 'possum--er posson." Seeing Marjorie, he said: "ShallI perambulate Mista Snoozleums?"
She handed the porter her only friend and he hurried out, as a leanand professionally sad ascetic hurried in. He did not recognize hisboyish enemy in the gray-haired, red-faced giant that greeted him, buthe knew that voice and its gloating irony:
"Hello, Charlie."
He had always found that when Ira grinned and was cordial, sometrouble was in store for him. He wondered what rock Ira held behindhis back now, but he forced an uneasy cordiality: "And is this you,Ira? Well, well! It is yeahs since last we met. And you're justgetting married. Is this the first time, Ira?"
"First offense, Charlie."
The levity shocked Selby, but a greater shock was in store, for whenhe inquired: "And who is the--er--happy--bride?" the triumphantLathrop snickered: "I believe you used to know her. Anne Gattle."
This was the rock behind Ira's back, and Selby took it with a wince:"Not--my old----"
"The same. Anne, you remember, Charlie."
"Oh, yes," said Anne, "How do you do, Charlie?" And she put out a shyhand, which he took with one still shyer. He was so unsettled that hestammered: "Well, well, I had always hoped to marry you, Anne, but notjust this way."
Lathrop cut him short with a sharp: "Better get busy--before the trainstarts. And I'll pay you in advance before you set off the fireworks."
The flippancy pained the Rev. Charles, but he was resuscitated by oneglance at the bill that Ira thrust into his palm. If a man's gratitudefor his wife is measured by the size of the fee he hands the enablingparson, Ira was madly in love with Anne. The Rev. Charles had areminiscent suspicion that it was probably a counterfeit, but for oncehe did Ira an injustice.
The minister was in such a flutter from losing his boyhood love, andgaining so much money all at once and from performing the marriage ona train, that he made numerous errors in the ceremony, but nobodynoticed them, and the spirit, if not the letter of the occasion, wasthere and the contract was doubtless legal enough.
The ritual began with the pleasant murmur of the preacher's voice, andthe passengers crowded round in a solemn calm, which was suddenlyviolated by a loud yelp of laughter from Wedgewood, who emitted guffawafter guffaw and bent double and opened out again, like an agitatedumbrella.
The wedding-guests turned on him visages of horror, and hissed silenceat him. Ashton seized him, shook him, and muttered:
"What the--what's the matter with you?"
The Englishman shook like a boy having a spasm of giggles at afuneral, and blurted out the explanation:
"That story about the bridegroom--I just saw the point!"
Ashton closed his jaw by brute force and watched over him through therest of the festivity.