All Sihasset was in the little church next morning. Mrs. O'Leary, grand even in her widow's weeds, had a front seat before St. Joseph's altar, where she could see everything, and crowded into the pew with her were all the little O'Leary's. The old lady had had some misgivings about attending a wedding so soon after her husband's death; but the misgivings were finally banished for--as she confided to the eldest of her grandchildren--"Sure, 'tis Miss Ruth who is gettin' married, and himself would want me there."
So Mrs. O'Leary arrived two hours ahead of time and secured her point of vantage. Under more ordinary circumstances she would have had a hard time to quiet the energetic youngsters, but now they had enough to occupy their minds, for when had they seen such gorgeous flowers, such wonderful ferns? The sanctuary was massed with them, the little altar standing out in vivid relief against their greenness. And then there was that wonderful strip of white canvas down the center aisle, that white strip that was so tempting to little feet, but which must not be stepped upon. And what were those kneeling benches for--the two draped in white--one on each side of the open gateway, just inside the communion railing? And over on the left was a platform bearing a great chair, and over it hung a canopy--only the children didn't call it so--of purple.
They had never seen the sanctuary look like this before! And then their attention was attracted by the strains of the new organ, hurriedly bought for the occasion. The choir from the city was practising before the service. Truly, the little O'Learys were glad that "Grandma" had ignored their cries and had insisted on coming early. And what would Miss Wilson say at not being permitted to play for the wedding? That thought alone was enough to keep the little minds busy.
Outside, Main Street was decorated with flags; and the people, keenly expectant, were watching for His Excellency. Never before had they known the Minister of a Kingdom to step within the boundaries of Sihasset. Bishops had been seen there before, but Ministers were new, and international weddings had never come nearer than the great metropolis. Barons, too, were scarce, and who loves a baron--provided he is not an American "baron"--any more than the simon-pure Yankee? So the decorations were up by order of the selectmen, and the merchants vied with one another in making their own ornamentations as gorgeous as possible. And the people--with the sole exception of the O'Learys--waited outside, each anxious to catch the first glimpse of the great man who to-day was to honor them by his presence.