But it did not--another moment something else pealed through the church, a loud voice calling “Stop!” and Lady Germaine’s disposition to laugh was over in an instant. She gave a little cry instead, and came close to Lady Jane to support her. Lord Germaine dropped his eyeglass from his eye. He said, “Go on, sir; go on, sir; do your duty,” imperatively. As for Winton, he turned half round with a start, then, bewildered, pronounced his assent to the question which had been but half asked him. “I will,” he said, “I will!” “Go on, sir,” cried Lord Germaine: “go on, sir.” In the meantime some one was hurrying up the aisle, pale, breathless, in a whirl of passion. Even in the excitement and horror of the moment Mrs Marston could not help giving a second look to see what like a duke was in the flesh. The new-comer was white with fatigue and fury. He came up to the very altar-steps where those two poor women had been kneeling, and thrust Mrs Simms and the alarmed verger almost violently out of the way. “Stop!” he cried, “stop! I forbid it--stop--Jane!” and clutched his daughter by the arm. Lady Germaine in her excitement gave a loud shriek and grasped the bride tighter, holding her round the waist, while Winton, in a kind of frenzy, seized her ungloved hand, which was ready to be put into his. Lady Jane thus seized on every side awoke only then out of the abstraction of that solemn and prayerful seriousness in which she had been about to perform the greatest act of her life. She had not noted the breaks and pauses in the service, she had not thought of anything extraneous, noises or voices. All that had occupied her was the solemnity of the moment, the great thing she was doing, the oath she was about to take. Even now, when so rudely awakened, she was not sure that the hand of the bridegroom seeking hers was not in the course of the service. She gave it to him, notwithstanding the grasp upon her arm. “Go on, sir!” shouted Lord Germaine; “do your duty.” But the Rector could not help for the moment a little sense of triumph. He made a step backwards and closed his book. And at this moment there was the little rustle in the throat of the church tower, and one, two, three,--noon struck, filling the church with successive waves of sound.