Page:Leah Reed--Brenda's summer at Rockley.djvu/332

312 well-matched couple took their places at the head of the table. It would be a long story to describe the speeches made in honor of Mr. and Mrs. Weston, the healths drunk  in apollinaris, and the occasional tears that fell from the  eyes of Mrs. Barlow and other near relatives, as the  thought came to them that all this rejoicing meant more  or less sorrow in the end, as Agnes so soon must return  to Europe for an indefinite stay. There was room at the table only for the older guests, and the younger people sat  about in small groups on the piazza, or on chairs ranged  along the wall of the dining-room. But with the long French windows open to the piazzas, they could hear what  was said as well as those inside.

Finally, came the crowning event of the feast,—the cutting of the wedding cake, which had been the conspicuous decoration of one end of the flower-trimmed table. It was a real old-fashioned bride cake, with tiers and tiers  of corrugated frosting, surmounted by a pagoda-like structure, within which was the tiny effigy of a bride with a  flowing veil. At the corners of the cake were groups of cupids and doves, and, altogether, it is doubtful if the  North Shore had ever seen a more elaborate and tempting  wedding cake.

“This for the bride!” exclaimed Mr. Moffit, stepping forward, and, handing her a large silver knife, requested  Agnes to cut carefully, as untold treasures were concealed within, the distribution of which might have an  important effect on the destiny of several in the assembled  company.