The drive to the cottage scarcely occupied five minutes; and even had they desired it, there was no time for conversation. Milbanke sat upright and embarrassed; Clodagh lay back in her corner of the roomy barouche, her eyes fixed resolutely upon the window, her fingers tightly clasping the ivory prayer-book. One fact was occupying her mind with a sense of anger and loneliness--the fact that her cousin Larry had not been present in the church. Since the night on which her engagement had been announced, the feud between the cousins had continued. During the weeks of preparation for the wedding Larry had avoided Orristown; but though no overtures had been made, Clodagh had never doubted that he would be present at the ceremony itself. And now that the excitement was passed, she realised with a shock of surprise that she had been openly and unmistakably deserted. The thought was uppermost in her mind as the carriage stopped; and when her aunt came forward to greet them, her first question concerned the absent member of the family. "Where's Larry, Aunt Fan?" she asked. "My dear child, that's just what I have been asking myself. But come in!--come into the house!" Mrs. Asshlin was fluttered by the responsibilities of the moment. "Why wasn't he in church?" Clodagh asked, as she followed her into the narrow hall. Mrs. Asshlin threw out her hands in a gesture of perplexity. "How can I tell?" she said. "Boys are incomprehensible things. I'm sure--er--James is not old enough to have forgotten that?" She glanced archly over her shoulder. Milbanke looked intensely embarrassed, and Clodagh coloured. "Well, we'd better not wait for Larry," she interposed hastily. "You know what a time it takes to get round to Muskeere with that big barouche." Mrs. Asshlin became all assiduity. "Certainly!--certainly, my dear child! Mr. Curry and his brother are already waiting. Won't you come in?" With hospitable excitement she marshalled them into the dining-room. The room into which they were ushered, though small, was bright and cheerful; and, notwithstanding the season, there were flowers upon the table and mantelpiece. But even under these favourable conditions, the lunch was scarcely a success. Mrs. Asshlin was genuine enough in her efforts at entertainment; but the guests were not in a condition to be entertained. Milbanke was intensely nervous; Clodagh sat straight and rigid in her chair, uncomfortably conscious of insubordinate emotions that crowded up at every added suggestion of departure. Even the rector's brother--a bluff and hearty personage, who, out of old friendship for the Asshlin family, had consented to act as best man at the hurriedly arranged wedding--felt his spirits damped; while little Nance, who sat close to her sister, made no pretence whatever at hiding the tears that kept welling into her eyes.