"Do not be in a hurry, the right man will come at last."

"No man will ever want you, Elsie Hughes."

The voice of her Aunt Josephine was as clear and present in Elsie's mind as if the old woman had uttered the words only minutes before rather than more than fifty years ago. The admonishment had been drilled into her head throughout her childhood and adolescence, bitter words from an ugly soul bent on stifling the spirit of a beautiful young girl who found more pleasure in climbing trees than cooing over baby dolls.

Of all the days Elsie could do without the memory of her cruel relative, this, her wedding day, was chief. She reached behind her, slipping the top cloth covered buttons through the small loops, completing the task of putting on her wedding dress. She took a breath, willing the still present harping of her aunt to cease.

Looking into her dresser mirror, the voice instantly faded away as she took in the gentle beauty that she saw reflected. Anna had been judicious with the amount of make- up she had applied to Elsie's face, but even the moderate amount of powder, rouge, and black kohl she now donned enhanced the pronounced cheek bones and expressive eyes that looked back at her from the glass.

"You're a beauty, my lass. The boys will come calling…"

It was her father's voice she now heard; a raspy voice tinged with three whiskeys, cold Scottish wind and the edge of a sob threatening to break. Her da had said this to her every Saturday night as he sprawled on the settee, an empty glass in his hand and a tear in his eye as he watched her mother brush the snarls from Elsie's auburn mane in front of the blazing fire.

Forcing herself to look away from the mirror, Elsie felt her chest tighten. A wave of sorrow suddenly overtook her at the realization that she would have no family in attendance at her own wedding. Her mother and father had both been dead for more than thirty years and while she thought of them often, grief of this magnitude hadn't plagued her since just after their deaths. You are an old woman, Elsie Hughes. No need for this foolishness. She gave her head a good shake and quickly dabbed her eyes, careful not to upset Anna's fine work.

A knock on the door forced her out of her sad reverie and she quickly managed a smile as she opened the door.

"I have a special…oh, Mrs. Hughes, you look beautiful." Phyllis Baxter stepped back to admire the entirety of the housekeeper, quite taken aback by the youthful appearance of her superior who she had rarely seen clad in anything but the deepest hues of blue or black.

"Thank you, Miss Baxter. If I am presentable, the praise is owed Anna."

"She only enhanced the beauty that was already there, Mrs. Hughes."

Elsie blushed at the woman's kind words before inhaling deeply. "Do I smell Lily of the Valley?"

Miss Baxter smiled brightly as she pulled a small nosegay from behind her back. I know you are carrying your Bible, Mrs. Hughes, but Mr. Carson thought you might like to tuck this inside. He said this flower is your favorite."

Elsie's blush deepened and a flutter filled her chest at the sweet gesture by her intended. Over the years she had found sporadically placed stems of the flower tucked in various novels she had left on her desk, and once even pinned to the lapel of her coat. She had her suspicions that a certain butler had been responsible for the acts, but she had never had the nerve to ask him. Biting her lower lip, she managed a whispered, "How lovely," as she accepted the flowers from Miss Baxter, lifting the delicate white bells to her nose.

The lady's maid was touched at how affected Mrs. Hughes was by Mr. Carson's sweet gesture, so much so she found herself blinking back tears.

"It is so lovely to see you and Mr. Carson so happy, Mrs. Hughes. I know today will be the most wonderful day."

Elsie wanted to thank the woman for her kindness, but feared any attempt to speak would result in a flood of happy tears and so she only managed a small smile and a polite nod at the woman.

"I believe Mr. Carson has already left for the church. I should be off." Squeezing Mrs. Hughes hand, Miss Baxter turned to leave, but suddenly remembered another reason for her visit. "Oh, and Mrs. Patmore said she will wait for you downstairs by the car. She is already quite emotional."

Elsie let out a small, teary chuckle at the thought of her dear friend and she managed to swallow the lump forming in her throat, "Please tell her I will be down shortly, Miss Baxter."

Giving her a nod, the younger woman took a step toward the door before turning back around, "I hope you don't think me impertinent, Mrs. Hughes, but I want to know that you have made me stop and take stock, and I feel better for the exercise."

Elsie didn't follow what the woman had said. "I'm sorry, Miss Baxter?"

With a warm smile, the lady's maid whispered, "It is like Jane Austen said: "Do not be in a hurry, the right man will come at last," and was gone.

Elsie stared at the open doorway, a sudden peacefulness filling her being as she let the notion sink in. Looking at the floor and the general direction of the purgatory where she was quite certain her sour old aunt now resided, she happily whispered, "You were wrong, Aunt Josephine. A man does want me."

She let a playful giggle escape as she crossed to the bed to retrieve her new hat, complete with pale pink blooms set off against a landscape of soft gray felt. Looking into her mirror, she managed to angle the hat just right before allowing herself a few moments to take in her reflection, seeing traces of both her parents in the face of the child they had loved so well. "And I do feel beautiful, Da," she whispered, closing her eyes as she lifted her face towards the sky.

Wiping a single tear from her eye, Elsie quickly retrieved her Bible from the nightstand, delicately tucking the lily of the valley between its well-read pages before bringing the book to rest against her chest and offering a small, silent prayer, thanking the Lord for her good life and the man who had come at last.