“Yes--they owe it all to you; you needn't try to deny it; he's told every one!” “I was sure she hadn't,” said Mrs. Brinkley, remembering how Alice had marked an increasing ignorance of any part she might have had in the affair from the first moment of her reconciliation with Dan; she had the effect of feeling that she had sacrificed enough to Mrs. Brinkley; and Mrs. Brinkley had been restored to all the original strength of her conviction that she was a solemn little unconscious egotist, and Dan was as unselfish and good as he was unequal to her exactions. “Oh no?” said Miss Cotton. “She couldn't!” implying that Alice would be too delicate to speak of it. “Do you see any of his family here?” asked Mrs. Brinkley. “Yes; over there--up front.” Miss Cotton motioned, with her eyes toward a pew in which Mrs. Brinkley distinguished an elderly gentleman's down-misted bald head and the back of a young lady's bonnet. “His father and sister; the other's a bridemaid; mother bed-ridden and couldn't come.” “They might have brought her in an-arm-chair,” suggested Mrs. Brinkley ironically, “on such an occasion. But perhaps they don't take much interest in such a patched-up affair.” “Oh yes, they do!” exclaimed Miss Cotton. “They idolise Alice.” “And Mrs. Pasmer and Mister, too?” “I don't suppose that so much matters.” “They know how to acquiesce, I've no doubt.” “Oh yes! You've heard? The young people are going abroad first with her family for a year, and then they come back to live with his--where the Works are.” “Poor fellow!” said Mrs. Brinkley. “Why, Mrs. Brinkley, do you still feel that way?” asked Miss Cotton, with a certain distress. “It seems to me that if ever two young people had the promise of happiness, they have. Just see what their love has done for them already!” “And you still think that in these cases love can do everything?” Miss Cotton was about to reply, when she observed that the people about her had stopped talking. The bridegroom, with his best man, in whom his few acquaintances there recognised Boardman with some surprise, came over the chancel from one side. Miss Cotton bent close to Mrs. Brinkley and whispered rapidly: “Alice found out Mr. Mavering wished it, and insisted on his having him. It was a great concession, but she's perfectly magnanimous. Poor fellow! how he does look!” Alice, on her father's arm, with her bridemaids, of whom the first was Minnie Mavering, mounted the chancel steps, where Mr. Pasmer remained standing till he advanced to give away the bride. He behaved with great dignity, but seemed deeply affected; the ladies in the front pews said they could see his face twitch; but he never looked handsomer. The five clergymen came from the back of the chancel in their white surplices. The ceremony proceeded to the end. The young couple drove at once to the station, where they were to take the train for New York, and wait there a day or two for Mrs. and Mr. Pasmer before they all sailed.