The neighbors for miles around had gathered at Mrs. Forest's house. The bashful boy in brown homespun cast a wistful eye at the dining-table, and the half-grown girl in her linsey frock longed to see the marriage ceremonies performed.
No one knew. Old Jeff Lucas "'lowed" that he must be prowling around looking for something to eat, and "Aunt Liz," with a violent wrinkling of her nose, declared that if he wanted anything to eat he should get it at once, for she knew he would starve to death away off there in Kentucky.
"Mandy," said Mrs. Forest, addressing a colored woman who had come to assist in waiting on the guests, "do you know where Alf is?"
"How I know whar he is?" the woman replied. "Ef he got bizness ober yere I reckon he be yere airter while."
The ceremonies were performed, and while congratulations were still being extended Alf stepped up on the gallery. "Yere," he cried, waving a piece of paper, "somebody else got tet git married yere. Come on, Mandy." He and Mandy were married. "Oh!" the old negro exclaimed, with a pretense of great surprise, "I neber did see de like o' marryin' dat's gwine on dese days. Man kaint walk roun' yere widout bumpin' ergin somebody dat's dun married."
Bradwell and Mrs. Bradwell, John and Eva, were to go to the railway station, thirty miles away, in a wagon. Alf and his wife would ride a mule. After many farewells had been exchanged, and after John had affectionately kissed his aunt, old Jeff's wife remarked:
"I jest know you air all goin' to starve ter death, but don't think I want ter keep you here, fur goodness knows I don't."
She watched the wagon until it had turned a bend in the road, and then, clasping her hands over old Jeff's shoulder, bowed her head and sobbed.
The bridal party stood on the railway platform. "Eva," said John, "are you happy?"
"Yes, my soul is filled with a quiet joy."
The train came within sight. "It is the vehicle," said John, gazing up the road, "that is to convey us to a new and happy life."
Bradwell lifted his hand to point out something. John seized it and pressed it to his breast.
The conversation had turned upon the war and the old soldiers' fondness for reminiscence had been freely indulged, when someone, addressing Alf Billingsly, asked if he had served during the war.