It was the first time any one had seen her
since she started on the wedding-tour, and the bows and smiles she
dealt out on every side were not to be numbered. Our pretty girl got
one--they were school-friends--and the horrid boy another, which he
barely answered with a solemn nod of his head, being as shy of her,
apparently, in her blue silk and white cape, as his sister was of Mr.
Davis. It was really a very pretty dress of the Bride's, and one that
made our traveling costumes look uncommonly shabby: it was taken up
behind in the approved style, and only needed a bustle to have been
truly effective. Doubtless she had seen plenty of those articles in
Stockholm, only her husband said, "I hope, dear, you will never put on
one of those horrid things;" and she told him certainly not if he did
not like them; but I think she found afterward she needed one for
that blue dress, and sent for it at the first opportunity. The young
husband was not got up for show, knowing very well that no one would
mind him, but he looked beamingly happy; and if he was not in a
dress-coat with a flower in his buttonhole, like the _habitues_ of
the Comedie Francaise or the Italiens, he understood how they use an
opera-glass there. The glass was a new acquisition that he had brought
home with him, and after practicing with it at the Royal Theatre in
the capital, he was fully prepared to stand up between the acts, with
his arm behind him in a negligently graceful attitude, and study
the balcony.
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