You are trying to don the inexpressibles, Blanche, but it won't do.

My ward goes with us on our bridal tour, or there shall be no bridal tour at all.

There! you have it in plain English, Mrs.Carl Walraven!" Five minutes later Mr.and Mrs.Walraven descended to the carriage, Mrs.
Walraven with her veil drawn down, and making her adieus in a smothered sort of voice.

Mr.Walraven handed in his ward next, then followed; the coachman flourished his whip and they were gone.
The happy pair were merely going to Washington.

Mr.Walraven had had a surfeit of Europe, and Washington, this sparkling winter weather, was at its gayest and best.