And then she saw a car coming up the drive that bore her one-time-alienated brother-in-law to reconciliation, and she went in to be ready to meet him.
It was two days later that Rose’s little note of invitation came.
Chapter 22
It was a beautiful, quiet wedding, celebrated in the thatched cottage, because Grandmother was not able to stand the drive to the church and the excitement of it all together, and Rose could not think of being married without Grandmother there.
So the house was made sweet and homelike, as in fact it always was, with flowers here and there. Grandmother wore her best soft gray dress, which she had worn on all festive occasions for years, with a fine sheer white kerchief folded about her neck and a thin sheer cap starched smoothly on her white hair that still crept into little silver ringlets about her face if she didn’t watch carefully. Grandmother sat in her old high-backed chair by the fireplace, where burned a lovely quiet fire “so Granny would be warm.” She sat with her hands folded, making a sweet gentle picture of herself and giving a holy touch to the whole room, dignifying it and making it seem like a hallowed place.
As indeed it was. For early that morning, before they ate the hasty breakfast, the whole family had assembled and knelt around the fireplace while John Galbraith prayed for the children who were that day to be united in the holy bands of matrimony. He asked for daily traveling blessings as they went on their way, and he called to mind the past, with its dear ones who had already gone home, that the memory of their blessed lives might help the young lives that were beginning. It was such a prayer that the children, as they came and went through the room during the morning preparations, felt that the place was sanctified, and walked softly as before the Lord. For surely the Lord was a guest that morning in his prayer. Even the little ones, felt it.
Quite early in the morning for one who had journeyed so far since daybreak, Aunt Janet arrived. She bore a little white box in her hand which she gave to Rose at once, going up to Rose’s room to do so, where she was all ready except her veil—the veil that was to have been her mother’s.
“These were your mother’s pearls that she had expected to wear on her wedding day,” said Aunt Janet as she handed over the box almost shyly. “Our father—your grandfather—had bought them for her. But she never saw them. I thought perhaps you would like to wear them.”
Rose’s eyes filled with tears as she knelt to have Aunt Janet clasp the lovely string of real pearls about her neck.
“Oh, it was dear of you to bring these. It doesn’t seem as if I should take them from you.”
“But I am glad to give them,” said Aunt Janet with a look of relief. “All these years they have weighed upon me, because I had helped to keep them from my sister. Now I know if she were here she would be glad to have her child have them for her wedding day.”
Rose kissed her again and hugged her close and thanked her many times for all she had done. And they spoke for a minute of the little service in the castle.
“He liked it,” said Aunt Janet. “He can make me understand by opening and closing his eyes. And I’m reading more to him every day. He sleeps better after I do it.”
Then there came word that the minister had arrived, and it was time for Rose to put on her veil and be ready. So Aunt Janet put her stiff bony arms around Rose and kissed her tenderly.
“You are like your mother as I saw her last,” she whispered, and then came a quick shining of tears in her eyes, and one trickled down through the hard lines of her sad old face. Tears looked so out of place on that repressed face.
“And I’ve sent over your mother’s picture and her piano as a wedding present,” she burst forth as she turned quickly toward the door, “and there’ll be a few things, her books, and some trinkets she loved. They’ve already started.”
“Oh, Aunt Janet! You dear!” said Rose, flinging her arms again about her aunt’s neck. “How wonderful! But you shouldn’t have sent them away. You will miss them.”
“No, no!” said Lady Warloch, dabbling quickly at her tears. “No! I want you to have them. It pleases me. It really does!” And then with another quick kiss, she was gone downstairs. Aunt Rose slipped in to arrange the veil.
Downstairs the few outside guests had arrived. Contrary to Grandmother’s expectations, Lord and Lady Campbell had both come, and Lord Campbell was standing with Uncle John Galbraith and Malcolm McCarroll, as if they had been lads together. Over by Grandmother, Lady Campbell and Gordon’s mother were having a nice little quiet talk, getting really well acquainted and liking one another immensely. Mrs. McCarroll found that all her fears about this new daughter-in-law and the possibilities of her impossible relatives were rapidly vanishing away. Once, as she glanced over toward her husband, she met a twinkle in his eye that plainly said to her loving understanding look, “There, Mamma, didn’t I tell you our Gordon knew what he was doing?”
And over by the door was standing the distinguished preacher talking with Gordon McCarroll. The whole atmosphere was most unusual and satisfying, and Gordon’s mother, as she glanced about, was proud of her son and glad of the connection he was about to make with this dear family.
A sudden hush, and then came the bride in the lovely old gown made for her mother who never wore it, and Kirsty in the frail old pink dress that went with it so well, carrying lovely flowers that Gordon McCarroll had ordered.
There were banked flowers at one end of the room, and it was in front of these that Rose and Gordon took their stand, with Kirsty and Donald attending, and the minister standing in front.
Gordon’s mother, as she looked at them, felt her heart thrill. What a handsome couple they were going to be! She was going to be proud of this sweet girl whom her son was taking to wife, and the lovelight in their eyes was all that could be desired. But best of all was that they were both children of God. It made her feel so safe and happy about their future, whatever came. For she had felt, as none could help feeling, that Presence in their midst. She wondered that she had never noticed it before in any wedding she had attended. Everyone in the room must have felt it, even the children, for they were very solemn and sweet as they watched, wide-eyed, the whole ceremony.
Then the service began, a most unusual order. For this minister had a way of making the service a dedication to the Lord of these two lives that were uniting in one. It was very solemn and reverent, and Aunt Janet, watching, listening, shivered quietly to herself to think what might have been if Lord Warloch had carried out his plans and married this sweet girl to Lord MacCallummore! Then she realized for the first time how her own young sister had wrought well instead of ill, even though it had brought separation from those who planned for her according to this world’s standards.
Very tenderly and with great joy and pride, they all went up to greet the bride and groom when the service was over. And as they were coming eagerly, Rose, at intervals between her loving words, kept saying to herself, “I am married to Gordon McCarroll. Just think! I am the wife of that wonderful boy that I admired so much for years in school. To think he just passed by me on that ship, and our eyes met, and our lips, and then he come over the seas after me! Hasn’t it all been just wonderful of God to care for me that way. How pleased Mother must be up in heaven now!”
And then the refreshments were being passed, delicious goodies that Aunt Jessie had planned and executed; not the least the great fruitcake, which was delectable, even though Aunt Jessie didn’t think it had had time to mellow. And there was nothing for any of them to be ashamed about before the lords and ladies, had they been self-conscious enough to think about such a thing. Aunt Janet, getting a new view of what life could really be, was thinking that! For she too recognized the presence of God in that house, even as she had recognized it that night in the castle when Rose had read the Word, and Gordon prayed that tender prayer.
Perhaps the voices were a little hushed, the tongues less prone to sharpness because of that Presence.
And even the little boys, st
anding in the doorway after the bridal party had driven away to the city, turned and looked about the house and the big empty room, and one of them said to his mother, “Mother, did God go with them?”
“Oh, yes,” said the mother, smiling over at Agnes McCarroll and her husband, who were standing nearby.
The little boys stood still, looked all around once more, and then young Jamie lifted wondering eyes and said gravely, “But Mother, He seems to be here yet!”
Amid the smiling faces of the family group the mother stooped and kissed the eager young face. “Yes, dear, but you know God is everywhere, and nobody need be without Him, if they are willing to let Him in.”
“Oh!” said the little boy very thoughtfully.
Lady Warloch, standing by, about to make her adieus and depart, looked startled, as if that were an entirely new thought.
The cousins drove the bride and groom all the way to Glasgow and waited till the ship left the dock.
Gordon and Rose stood on deck together, hand in hand, smiling and waving good-bye to the family which had become so dear to them both. Rose, looking down at them all, getting the last glimpse of the beloved faces, her very own folks, thought what a contrast this was to the time when she had sailed away from New York alone, with that forlorn feeling that there was nobody anywhere who cared. True, she had had that precious unexpected kiss upon her lips then, but she had scarcely felt at liberty to think of it as more than a gesture of courtesy. But now she had the giver of that kiss beside her, her very own man! Her husband who loved her, and whom she loved! And now there were dear ones left behind who would miss her and be sorry to have her gone. Oh, the world wasn’t so big and so far away as it had seemed when she left New York, and God was over it all! At last when the land seemed very far away, and the group at the wharf but a dim blur, they turned and looked at one another, and Gordon stooped and laid his lips upon hers again. A sudden realization came to them that this was the beginning of their new life together, the new life of which that other first precious kiss had been but the pledge.
“Oh, Gordon, if my mother could know about us!” said Rose, lifting dewy eyes to his tender glance.
“I think she does, dearest,” he said earnestly.
Later, when the moon was rising, they were walking on deck, and they came to stand in much the same spot in which they had stood on that other ship almost a year ago when they were about to be separated.
They were looking out across the water, standing hand in hand, watching the miracle of the moon as it sailed in stately splendor up from the horizon.
“Look!” said Rose eagerly, pointing out across the rail, “see that bright pathway of silver! It seems almost as if an angel might come walking on that toward us, almost as if God might be out there walking on the sea, making it safe for our first journey together!”
His arm drew her closer as he said reverently, “He is nearer than that, beloved! He is within us. You have helped me to find that out. Isn’t it going to be wonderful to serve Him together during all the days?”
GRACE LIVINGSTON HILL (1865–1947) is known as the pioneer of Christian romance. Grace wrote over one hundred faith-inspired books during her lifetime. When her first husband died, leaving her with two daughters to raise, writing became a way to make a living, but she always recognized storytelling as a way to share her faith in God. She has touched countless lives through the years and continues to touch lives today. Her books feature moving stories, delightful characters, and love in its purest form.
Grace Livingston Hill began writing stories in 1877 at the tender age of twelve and didn’t stop until her death in 1947. But what may be more amazing is that she has sold over 84 million copies and is still loved by young and old alike.
Grace Livingston Hill, Rose Galbraith
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