“He ought to be, this day at least,” observed Mr. Thornycroft. “And I am confident I saw him not half-an-hour ago walking homeward round the other side of Bedford Square. Do not be alarmed about him, pray.” This last remark was addressed to Agatha, who, overpowered by the closeness of the day, and by these repeated disasters, had begun to turn pale. Nathanael watched her with a keen anxiety, which only agitated her the more. Every one seemed uneasy and rather dull;--a circumstance not very remarkable, since, in spite of the popular delusion on that subject, very few ever really look happy at a wedding. It makes clearer to each one the silent ghost sitting in every human heart, which may take any form--bliss long desired, lost, or unfulfilled--or, in the fulfilling changed to pain--or, at best, looked back upon with a memory half-pensive if only because it is the past. For forty interminable minutes did the little party wait in the dreary church aisles, until the clock, and likewise the beadle, warned them it was near the canonical hour. “What are we to do?” whispered the bridegroom, looking towards Anne Valery. She took his hand, and drawing it towards Agatha's which hung on her arm, said earnestly: “Wait no longer--life's changes will not wait Marry her _now_--nothing should come between lovers that love one another.” Anne's manner, so faltering, so different from her usual self, irresistibly impressed the hearers. Silently the little group moved to the altar; the clergyman, weary of delay, hurried the service, and in a few minutes the young creatures who eight weeks before had scarcely heard each other's names, were made “not two, but one flesh.” It was all like a dream to Agatha Bowen; she never believed in its reality until, signing that name, “Agatha Bowen,” in the register-book, she remembered she was so signing it for the last time. A moment after, Emma's husband, who had assumed the office of father to the bride, cordially shaking her hand, wished all happiness to _Mrs. Harper_. Agatha started, shivered, and burst into tears. It was a natural thing, after so many hours of overstrained excitement; nor were her tears those of unhappiness, yet they seemed, every drop, to burn on her bridegroom's heart. To crown all, while these unlucky tears were still falling, some one at the vestry door cried out, “There's Major Harper.” It was indeed himself. He entered the church hurriedly--very pale--with beads of dew standing on his brow. “Are they married? Am I too late--are they married?” cried he. Some uncontrollable feeling made Nathanael move to his wife's side, and snatch her hand. “Yes,” said he, meeting his brother's eye, “we are married.”