looked at her ring. "Charlotte! My dear! Well, of course, it's perfectly adorable!" They envied her because she was going abroad on her wedding trip. Through all the excitement Charlotte was calm, cheerful, capable.
The day before the wedding. Through the screened windows came soft fragrant heat and the sound of the lawn mower Noble had brought over to cut the Greens' lawn. Kate ran up and down stairs with flaming spots in her cheeks, told Carrie Pyne she thought her feet were going to drop off, went to the kitchen on errands she forgot on the way, shouted upstairs to Joe, and then shouted: "Never mind! Nothing!" The doorbell rang; the telephone rang; Hatty Butterfield was in the library with Charlotte, writing down "wh. satin, lace veil l. by Mrs. Elisha Whipple old fam. heirloom—b-maids bs pink roses (find kind) & delphinium relieved with larkspur—" Through it all Charlotte was serene.
But when Kate went to say good night, she found Charlotte face down on her bed, crying desperately.
"Why, Charlotte, darling! There, there"
"Oh-o-oh, Aunt Kate!"
"There, there, there"
The room was bright with moonlight that silvered Charlotte's open trunk, her bags, the dolls' house Hoagland had given her long ago, her wet pillow. Her sobs died; she lay quiet under Kate's stroking hand.
