Susan sighed. "And that's just what I used to feel about George; and I always thought he and I should be just such another couple as you and father." Susan had indulged herself in thinking and speaking of George as her lover till the images of the past had usurped the place of the realities of the present. The growing hum of voices struck her quick ear. The village was all alive again. The shouts of children and the steps of passers-by recalled her to herself, and painfully dispelled the recollections which had taken possession of her mind. It was over, and he was now the husband of another; and she felt wicked in having given way to such thoughts. "Mother, we must not say any more: the time is come when it is not enough for me to put a guard upon my words and my actions; I must now set a watch over my thoughts. I do not often talk as I have done to-day; and I felt as if it would do me good to speak of him once more:--but there's an end now." Towards the afternoon the bridal party paraded the humble street, as is the custom among the peasantry. The bride and bridegroom, and the bride's-maids and bride's-men, dressed in their holiday apparel, and paired for the day, perambulated the most frequented parts of Overhurst; the laughing blushing bride received the hearty, if not refined, congratulations of her neighbours; and, probably, among some of the wedding guests the foundations were laid for another festival of the same kind. George had as much as possible curtailed the usual march of the little procession, and had contrived that only once did they pass before Master Foster's cottage. He was ashamed on his wedding-day to say he wished to avoid that part of the village, and yet his heart sunk within him as he approached it. He almost rejoiced for a moment that Susan could not _see_ the merry troop; and, as he passed, he dared not raise his eyes in that direction. Many remarked that day, that Jane was all joy and smiles as would have befitted the bridegroom, while George's down-cast looks would better have suited the bride. Dame Foster was at her window, and saw the party advancing. Susan heard them almost before her mother perceived them, and inquired if the wedding procession was not passing. Her mother answered in the affirmative; and could not help adding, that she had not believed George would have been so unfeeling. "Do you see him, mother?" "Yes, there he is, Susan, sure enough!" "Oh, mother, how does he look? I gave him a handkerchief two years ago last summer, and he said he should keep it for his wedding-day. He has not got that on, sure?" "'Tis a checked brown and yellow he wears round his neck." "No! 'twas a spotted blue I gave him." "Poor fellow!" exclaimed the dame, in a more kindly tone; "he holds down his head, and now he looks the other way,--quite away from his bride, up the hill. Poor fellow! he can't bear to turn this way after all. I'll be bound he does feel it!"