Probably owing to the calmly superior aspect of Mr. Hartley Selmore, or the tonic supplied by Jermyn Croker’s patent disapprobation and contempt of the whole proceedings, the protagonist and his acolouthos went through the ordeal with that exact proportion of courage, reverence, deftness, and satisfaction, the full rendering of which is often hard upon him who makes necessarily ‘a first appearance.’ As for Antonia’s loveliness on that day, when, radiant, white-robed, and serene, she placed her hand in that of her lover, and greeted him with the trustful smile in which the virgin-soul shines out o’er the maiden-bride’s countenance, Ernest Neuchamp may be pardoned for thinking that the angel of his dreams had been permitted to visit the earth, to rehearse for his especial joy a premature beatific vision. Mr. Parklands effected a sensation by dropping the bridal-ring, but as he displayed much quickness of eye and manual dexterity in regaining it, the incident had rather a beneficial effect than otherwise. Everything was happily concluded, even to the kissing of the bridesmaids, Mr. Parklands, with his usual energy and daring, having insisted on carrying out personally that pleasing portion of the programme, supposed to appertain of right to the holder of the ancient and honourable office of groomsman. This compelled the chasing of two unwilling damsels half-way down the aisle, after which the slightly scandalised spectators quitted the church, while the wedding-guests betook themselves to Morahmee. There, as they arrived, Mr. Frankston, sweeping the bay mechanically with long-practised eye, exclaimed, ‘What boat is that heading for our jetty at such a pace?—a whaleboat, too, with a Kanaka crew. There’s a tall man with the steer oar in his fist; by Jove! it’s Charley Carryall for a thousand.’ And that cheerful mariner and successful narrator it proved to be when the weather-beaten boat came foaming up to the little pier, drawn half out of the water by her wild-looking, long-haired crew, encouraged by their captain, who was backing up the stroke as if an eighty-barrel whale depended upon their speed. ‘Frantically glad to see you, Charley, my boy,’ shouted Paul; ‘never hoped for such luck; the only man necessary to make the affair perfect—absolutely perfect. Isn’t he, Antonia? But how did you guess what we were about, and get here in time? I see the old _Banksia_ is only creeping up the harbour now.’ ‘_That_ guided me,’ said the Captain, pointing to the profusely decorated Morahmee flagstaff—an invariable adjunct to a marine villa. ‘I was sure all that bunting wasn’t up for anything short of Antonia’s wedding. So I dressed and came away. The operculums I was bringing our little girl here will just come in appropriately. They’re the first any of you have seen, I daresay.’