In the Land of the Long White Cloud

really no reason to feel sorry for anyone.
    “Then I’ll say good-bye,” said Lucas stiffly. “I think you’ll sleep better alone.”
    “If you like,” said Gwyneira. “But don’t husband and wife usually spend their wedding night together?”
    Lucas nodded. “You’re right. I’ll stay here. The bed is spacious enough.”
    “Yes.” Gwyneira happily made room, rolling over to the left side of the bed. Lucas lay fixed and rigid on the right.
    “Then I wish you good night, dearest.”
    “Good night, Lucas.”

    The next morning Lucas was already up when Gwyneira awoke. Witi had laid out a light-colored morning suit for him in Gwyneira’s dressing room, and he was already dressed to go down to breakfast.
    “I’d be happy to wait for you, my love,” he said, straining to look past Gwyneira, who had sat up in bed in her lace nightshirt. “But perhaps it’s preferable that I be the recipient of our guests’ ribald remarks.”
    Gwyneira wasn’t afraid of seeing even the most ardent reveler from last night so early in the morning, but nodded in agreement.
    “Please send Kiri and Dorothy, if possible, to help me dress and do my hair. We’ll no doubt have to dress up, so someone will have to help me with my corset,” she said in a friendly tone.
    Lucas seemed to be once more embarrassed by the subject of corsets. However, Kiri was already waiting by the door. Only Dorothy had to be fetched.
    “And, mistress? Was it lovely?”
    “Please, continue calling me
miss
, you and the others,” Gwyneira said. “I like it much better.”
    “Gladly, miss. But now tell. How it was? First time not always so lovely. But gets better, miss,” Kiri said as she straightened Gwyneira’s dress.
    “Well…lovely…” Gwyneira muttered. In this regard too people overrated the thing. What Lucas had done to her the night before she considered neither lovely nor terrible. It seemed practical as long as the man did not weigh too much. She giggled at the thought of Kiri, who preferred plumper men.
    Kiri had already helped Gwyneira into a white summer dress decorated with bright little flowers when Dorothy appeared. The girl took over doing her hair while Kiri changed the sheets. Gwyneira thought it unnecessary; after all, she hadn’t done much more than sleep between the sheets. But she said nothing. Maybe it was a Maori custom. Dorothy was no longer crying but she was quiet and couldn’t look Gwyneira in the eye.
    “Are you all right, miss?” she asked, concerned.
    Gwyneira nodded. “Of course, why wouldn’t I be? That looks really nice with the barrette, Dorothy. You should take note, Kiri.”
    Kiri was otherwise occupied at the moment. She was contemplating the bedding with a concerned air. It first occurred to Gwyneira after she had sent Dorothy from the room with a breakfast order.
    “What is it, Kiri? Are you looking for something in the bed? Did Mr. Warden lose something?” Gwyneira though that perhaps she was looking for a piece of jewelry, maybe Lucas’s wedding ring, which had sat rather loosely on his slender finger.
    Kiri shook her head. “No, no, miss. Is only…is no blood on sheets.” Bewildered and ashamed, she looked up at Gwyneira.
    “Why should there be blood?” Gwyneira asked.
    “After first night, always blood. It hurts a little at first, then blood, and then gets lovely.”
    It dawned on Gwyneira that she had missed out on something. “Mr. Warden is very…tender,” she said vaguely.
    Kiri nodded. “And surely tired too after party. Not be sad, so first thing blood tomorrow!”
    Gwyneira decided not to worry about it until it came up again. In the meantime, she went down to breakfast, where Lucas was entertaining the guests in the most genial fashion. He joked with the ladies, took the gentlemen’s jibes in good humor, and proved as attentive as ever when Gwyneira joined him. The next few hours passed with the usual chitchat, and with the exception of the hopelessly sentimental Mrs. Brewster—who told her, “You’re so brave, child. So cheerful! But Mr. Warden is such a considerate man,” no one made any reference to the previous night.
    At noon, when most of the guests were resting, Gwyneira finally found time to go to the stables to visit her horse and see her dog.
    The shepherds bellowed their greetings to her.
    “Oh, Mrs. Warden! Congrats. Did you have a good night?” Poker Livingston inquired.
    “Obviously a better one than you, Mr. Livingston,” Gwyneira returned.