Now as we were borne through Slaithwaite and Marsden and Diggle, past the familiar "Hanging Gate," I was not quite easy in my mind at all this unwonted and unnecessary splendour. Would it not have been better to have begun as we meant to go on and I imagined the villagers who ran to their doors to see the dashing carriages exclaiming to each other: "Just fancy--a poor parson's son and old Mary's that brews treikle-drink!" But when I hinted at this to Miriam she just smiled happily, and said: "Wait and see." The breakfast was at Mr. Buckley's. The curate of Slaithwaite Church was there, Mr. and Mrs. Buckley, Dr. and Mrs. Dean, Mr. and Mrs. Wrigley of Holly Grove, my father, Mary Haigh, and Enoch Hoyle, and a portly old gentleman who turned out to be a lawyer. They called it a breakfast; my notion of a good breakfast was ham and eggs and a pint of coffee. But at that so-called breakfast the only drink was a wine I had heard of, to be sure, but never seen--champagne--Jim said he thought was yellow bobbin-water. Then when the health of brides and grooms had been drunk, Mr. Buckley said: "Now, Mr. Freeman, it's your turn." And the portly old gentleman rose and spoke as follows: "It is known to most of you that the father of Mrs. Abel Holmes"--that was my Miriam, if you please--"was the Rev. James Garside, son of a wealthy client of my firm. Mr. Garside, senior, predeceased his wife by many years, and young James was left to the care of his mother. Mrs. Garside, a most worthy lady, took into her household a foundling who had been left upon the steps of her house--a girl babe. She became attached to the infant, and it was given the name of Esmeralda. The child grew in years, in grace, and beauty, and, as might have been foreseen, young James became enamoured of her. He persuaded her to a clandestine marriage, fearing his mother's wrath. In this he did wrong, but I am not here to censure the dead. We all know how terrible have been the consequences of that first wrong step--the wreck of his mother's happiness, of his wife's, of his own, and but for a most happy chance, of the fruit of that marriage, the beautiful maiden, Miriam, who has to-day become Mrs. Abel Holmes, a rare jewel finding, I trust, a worthy setting.