"It must be lovely to
be a bride!"
"You've been reading too many silly books," scolded Bobby. "Anyway,
Libbie, you're too fat to look nice in a veil. Better get thin before
you're old enough to be married, or else you'll have to wear a
traveling suit."
Libbie eyed her scornfully and continued to parade up and down in
her draperies.
"Betty would look pretty in a veil," said Louise suddenly. "Come on,
girls, let's stage a wedding. Libbie won't sleep all night if she
doesn't have some romantic outlet. I'll be the father."
She seized a pillow and stuffed it in the front of her dressing gown
so that it made a very respectable corpulency.
"I'll be the mother!" Esther began to pin up her hair, a dignity to
which she secretly aspired.
"I'm your bridesmaid, Libbie," announced Betty, catching up the
bride's train and beginning to hum the wedding march under her breath.
"If you _will_ be silly idiots, I'm the minister," said Bobby,
mounting the bed and leaning over the foot rail as if it were a pulpit.
The bride stopped short, nearly tripping up the devoted bridesmaid.
"I don't think you should make fun of ministers," she said, looking
disapprovingly at her cousin. "It's almost wicked.
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