This was agreed on after some discussion. Edward, however, to provide against all contingencies, begged Sampson not to wait for him should Alfred reach the church by some other road: “I'm only groomsman, you know,” said he. He ran off at a racing pace. The bride was then summoned, admired, and handed into one carriage with her two bridesmaids, Miss Bosanquet and Miss Darton. Sampson and Mrs. Dodd went in the other; and by half-past eleven they were all safe in the church. A good many people, high and low, were about the door and in the pews, waiting to see the beautiful Miss Dodd married to the son of a personage once so popular as Mr. Hardie: it had even transpired that Mr. Hardie disapproved the match. They had been waiting a long time, and were beginning to wonder what was the matter, when, at last the bride's party walked up the aisle with a bright April sun shining on them through the broad old windows. The bride's rare beauty, and stag-like carriage of her head, imperial in its loveliness and orange wreath, drew a hum of admiration. The party stood a minute or two at the east end of the church, and then the clergyman came out and invited them into the vestry. Their reappearance was eagerly expected; in silence at first, but presently in loud and multitudinous whispers. At this moment a young lady, with almost perfect features and sylph-like figure, modestly dressed in dove-coloured silk, but with a new chip bonnet and white gloves, entered a pew near the west door, and said a little prayer; then proceeded up the aisle, and exchanged a word with the clerk, then into the vestry. “Cheep! cheep! cheep!” went fifty female tongues, and the arrival of the bridegroom's sister became public news. The bride welcomed her in the vestry with a sweet guttural of surprise and delight, and they kissed one another like little tigers. “Oh, my darling Jane, how kind of you! have I got you back to make my happiness complete?” Now none of her own party had thought it wise to tell Julia there was any hitch: but Miss Hardie blurted out naturally enough, “But where's Alfred?” “I don't know, dear,” said Julia innocently. “Are not he and Edward in another part of the church? I thought we were waiting till twelve o'clock, perhaps. Mamma dear, you know everything; I suppose this is all right?” Then, looking round at her friends' faces, she saw in a moment that it was all wrong. Sampson's, in particular, was burning with manly indignation, and even her mother's discomposed, and trying to smile. When the innocent saw this, she suspected her beloved was treating her cavalierly, and her poor little mouth began to work, and she had much ado not to whimper. Mrs. Dodd, to encourage her, told her not to be put out: it had been arranged all along that Edward should go for him: “Unfortunately we had an impression it was the other way: but now Edward is gone to his lodgings.”