The summer morning was fresh and bright cool, but not for long. There was a sense of anticipation in the air, as it was important day in the annals of Glenians another union of Blythes and Merediths.

The clinking of bowls could be heard faintly in Ingelside's kitchen.

Shirley Blythe leaned over Susan Baker's shoulder and held out a small coffee cup with gilded rims. A wedding cake that was a wedding cake was being prepared, with secret Bakerian traditions.

There was a lingering scent of lemonpeel, orange peel, hint of egg whites. Shirley watched as Susan's steady hands sifted the flour, as he was committing these steps into memory. With a side-glance, Susan not quite ordered, "my beloved boy, go now, the ceremony is starting in a few hours."

With a faint smile in his dark Blythe eyes, Shirley sheepishly saluted Susan and carefully he walked up the stairs, towards his own room. In the distance, Shirley could hear the light, soft laughter of her sisters ringing out.

Jem whistled the wedding march there was a rougish light in his hazel eyes, as he met his younger brother's gaze, and a light nod.

Shirley was cool, calm and collected, but only on the surface.

Because a couple of days earlier, at Jerrys informal, improvised stag-evening, it had been Shirley, not Carl, who had created the atmosphere of the evening with a few quiet, purposeful words, filled with camaraderie, not unlike that had been in the barracks, but a bit more decorous way, as stories, a few jokes, not pranks, and silvery flasks, had circulated the ring, among the participants.

Jem had been extremely amazed, as Carl, the bow of his suit askew had hummed in the utmost pure tenor, a few strains of old wistful wartime favorite, in the trenches, "Golry of Womanhood," and smiling quietly proclaimed, "Jerry, soon, very soon your wait, Nans and yours will end."

Shirley had been smoking quietly, but Jem had noted that Shirley was not at all surprised by Carl's voice, and skills, rather he had seemed quite proud, in his unassuming competent way.

Shirley's eyes were twinkling as she threw a small package tied with red ribbons to Jerry, saying with a dark eyebrow raised, in a mild way, "That will help with my sister, with her safety, that nothing happens with undue haste."

Jem had cast a watchful glance in the direction of his youngest brother, as Jerry had nodded and opened the package, and the familiar package had been revealed, not military-issue, no longer.

Amused by his brother's extreme practicality, Jem had chuckled and remarked, "Shirl, you must have connections we don't know about, or where exactly did you get the packet of french-letters, or did you pinch those from Dads study?"

Shirley had leaned back and crossed his arms and remarked, "I have my ways. Nan is my sister after all. There's no need to hurry, we fought on the Western Front precisely so that the future, the golden future imagined by our brother, could be built calmly, right?"

There lingered a little sombre mood, after Shirley's emphatic words, but then, slowly the merrymaking continued, in a shabby tent that had been set up halfway between Glen and Lowbridge, in a small wood, the stars were reflected in the fishpond, on the banks of which Shirley and Carl had been sitting and fishing quite often.

Jem snapped out of his memories as he heard Shirley's question, "Are you ready for your duties today?"

Jem, grinned, as he replied, "There is not much for me to do. Jerry may be more nervous than me, but getting married is not scary, not in itself, but the weight of those eternal promises, and building a life together, it matters doesn't it?"

Jem noticed that there seemed to be shadow in Shirleys eyes, as he stood stiffly, like in a parade position, in the narrow hallway of their childhood home but then, Shirley took a long step as he murmured, " Time is so fleeting, we must prepare."

The smell of the lovely, plummy rich cake spread to Ingelside as Susan put the fourth cake to cool. It must not be said that only Manse would do its share of catering for this wedding.

Una Meredith watched the full church of Glen from her seat, near the front of altar. The muffled babble of Mary Vance Douglas's children echoed brightly as Jerry and Jem stood before the altar. Jerry looked extremely tense, and pale, but that paleness changed to an intense flush as the Presbyterian Church organ began to play the gentle shimmering strains of Händels Water Music as Nan, in her white wedding dress, veil covering her nut-brown tresses, which was like a dream woven by fairies, walked down the church aisle, with light almost floating steps, Dr. Blythe accompanied her.

In moments, the vows were sworn, and listening to her Father's clear, sonorous voice as he recited the traditional marriage formula, Una felt triftle wistful.

A slight breeze fluttered the dark memorial banner that was pinned above Blythe's bench, but unlike usual, Una didn't glance at it, because she couldn't, not today, not now.

Susan Baker sniffed, as Irene Howard, in her golden yellow dress, made in the latest Butterick patterns, caught a bouquet of flowers thrown by Nan, and she said in undertone to Anne Blythe, "God forbid, a Howardian wedding, I hope, it won't happen very soon. I wish Rilla or Una had gotten a bouquet."

Anne Blyhe, hid her smile, as she replied, "Susan, Look how happy they all are."

The wedding guests clapped and cheered wildly as Jem, as a bestman made a glorious speech, " I can honestly say that my sister got herself one of the best men on earth. I would have countless stories about Jerry, as you all know we have gone a long way, to that very memorable first trout dinner. Nothing is in vain, ever, as I listened to their solemn wovs I thought of some immortal words of the Bard, and though Shakespeare is more the province of the recent Mrs. Meredith, I still want to quote them, for they are signposts to us all."

The wedding crowd held their breath as Jem simply recited those famous lines of sonnet 116.

"Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments; love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove.
O no, it is an ever-fixèd mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wand'ring bark
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come.
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom:
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved."

"And now, friends and family, I will give to you, Jerry and Nan Meredith."

On the shady lawn, the wedding party stood, after the waltz were done, laughter rang out.

And smiling gently at Rilla, Kenneth Ford held out his hand to his betrothed and they began to dance, not long after there were other couples on the grass, as Highlands Sandys nephew played his fiddle, that poured forth soulful strains of music.

Una Meredith held Mary Vance's youngest in her arms, and watched as Carl and Persis Ford danced, slinkily, the sun glimmered in their blond hair. The weight of child, nearly toddler yet, felt strangely comforting, in her arms. Una's musings were interrupted as she heard Bruce's voice inquire, "Una, go dance too, Mary Vance is coming here."

With a beaming smile to Una Mary Vance noted, "You've been kind to Una, haven't you, dearest." Mary Vance's sharp eyes caught Una's expression as she suggested, "Bruce's right, do it, because I don't think you'll be dancing in Redmond, even if there's a chance there, as you are too devoted to your various causes and your music."

Una caught Shirleys gaze, through the dancing crowd.

And soon they were dancing a stiff, formal, above all old-fashioned waltz, as Shirley murmured, to her ear, "So you kept your promise, I see."

Shirley twirled Una, her pale blue skirt rustling. Dancing had brought color to her pale cheeks, as she looked between her eyelashes at Shirley, as she hummed her assent, "It's traditional to dance at a wedding, people would talk if I didn't dance at my brother's wedding."

Irene Howard watched, Una Meredith, and Shirley Blythe, they seemed to be completely absorbed in each other, as Rilla Blythe and Kenneth Ford were, in powerless fury she crumpled her lace-trimmed handkerchief in her gloved hands, the triumph she had felt when she had received the wedding bouquet was hollow, for it was clear that the Blythes and the Merediths were always going to get everything, effortlessly.

Straightening her posture, Irene walked toward Persis Ford with purpose, but that golden-haired, far too showy girl, whose dress, its sleek lines, made Irene's own outfit look out of date, even though it wasn't, sat on the grass, carelessly, and laughed with a silvery-golden laugh that sparkled, it was peculiar that Carl Meredith was the reason for that laugh. Irene glanced coolly at Carl, with his too long golden-tawny hair, that unbecoming eye-patch, crooked bow, his enchanting, grin.

Rosemary Meredith leaned on John's arm as she looked around contentedly and met the eyes of Anne Blythe and Cornelia Marshall Elliot. Cornelia seemed extremely pleased, and the reason for that was clear, Una and Shirley had danced several dances, together, again, as it was proper to do so, at weddings. Faintly Rosemary saw that Di, dressed in pale green, was wiping her eyes with a thin linen handkerchief that Ellen had handed her, as Nan embraced her twin, as they shared a moment or two amid celebrations.

Later, much, much later, as cool shadows had embroidered the dewy grass dark, Una Meredith sat in the empty church, and looked at the memorial banner in the flickering candlelight. Slowly she uttered, "Nan's a married woman now, I think. But surely you know that. And I, I'm doing what you once suggested, and because one other can't do it any more. Music, at Redmond, it hasn't been so difficult as I imagined, people yes, but not notes."

A soft smile came to Una's bloodless lips as she continued, "Perhaps that means Rosemary taught me extremely well."

With light steps, Una went up to the organ loft, and glanced at the sheet music that the organist had placed there earlier, at her request. Una sat down on the organ bench, and concentrated, remembering what Professor Sorel had said to her, in a steady calm voice that often sounded deliberately cool, "Schubert, is never a walk in a park, none of his compositions. Try to see the meaning between the notes and the text."

The silence of the sleeping dusk of the church was broken by low, soothingly bright strands of Schubert: Ellens Gesang III.D. 839, or more commonly known as Ave Maria.

A/N:

Händel Water Music Suite in F major (HWV 348) (1717)

Shakespeare's sonnet is, of course, 116, one of the Bard's most beloved sonnets.

Schubert: Ellens Gesang III. (Hymne an die Jungfrau) , D. 839, Ave Maria(1825) Op 52, No 6.

The poem used as the foundation of the song is based on a poem by Walter Scott, Ellen's third hymn, which is based on Scott's Lady of the Lake poems.