I suppose the wedding dress is in it . '' `` Oh , '' breathed the girls , crowding about Aunt Olivia , as she lifted out the box and cut the cord around it . Inside was lying a dress of soft silk , that had once been white but was now yellowed with age , and , enfolding it like a mist , a long , white bridal veil , redolent with some strange , old-time perfume that had kept its sweetness through all the years . `` Poor Rachel Ward , '' said Aunt Olivia softly . `` Here is her point lace handkerchief . She made it herself . It is like a spider 's web . Here are the letters Will Montague wrote her . And here , '' she added , taking up a crimson velvet case with a tarnished gilt clasp , `` are their photographs -- his and hers . '' We looked eagerly at the daguerreotypes in the old case . `` Why , Rachel Ward was n't a bit pretty ! '' exclaimed the Story Girl in poignant disappointment . No , Rachel Ward was not pretty , that had to be admitted . The picture showed a fresh young face , with strongly marked , irregular features , large black eyes , and black curls hanging around the shoulders in old-time style . `` Rachel was n't pretty , '' said Uncle Alec , `` but she had a lovely colour , and a beautiful smile . She looks far too sober in that picture . '' `` She has a beautiful neck and bust , '' said Aunt Olivia critically . `` Anyhow , Will Montague was really handsome , '' said the Story Girl . `` A handsome rogue , '' growled Uncle Alec . `` I never liked him .
I was only a little chap of ten but I saw XXXXX him .
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