It comforted him to think in those days that his grandfather had stood between him and death, for he was sure that it was only Gaskin's fear of Sir Rupert had held his hand from murder. To me it seemed but a small compunction in the wicked old man, and I could not help believing it a part of his pride that found it insufferable for a worm like Gaskin to lift its head against one of his blood. If Harry had died in his bed at Castle Angry it seemed to me that it would have been murder, just as much as if he had crashed through the upper floor, as Gaskin had wished it, on to the flags of the hall. But the quality of gentleness which Harry De Lacy must have inherited from his other saintly old grandfather, and which, I know now, implies no lack of courage and true manliness, makes it easy to him to forgive Sir Rupert, and even to regret him a little after all. They were married very quietly one morning by Mr. Benson, in our old parish church. Esther had wanted to wear her travelling dress, but Lady O'Brien would not have it. "You will be the handsomest bride in this part of the country," she said, "since I stood up with poor Peter. Hilda there won't be a patch on you, meaning no disrespect to her. And you sha'n't be defrauded of your bridal glories. 'Twould be a shame to me for ever if I let you." So Esther had white poplin, with a train of white velvet, and the poplin delightfully sprigged with silver shamrocks. And I, the solitary bridesmaid, had also my frock from Paris, a creamy embroidered muslin trimmed with lace, which looked the embodiment of simplicity, but I am sure cost a very pretty penny for all that. It was Lady O'Brien's gift, and I cried out when she gave it to me that I would keep it against my wedding, but she said no, that I should have a wedding-dress of my own, and that she was to give it to me. "What," said she, "are you to give my daughter Esther rubies, and a minx like you be too proud to accept from an old woman a tuppenny-ha'penny silk frock." So I laughed and said I wasn't a minx, and would try to swallow the frock. Lance and I were to be married at Whitsuntide. I would not have it earlier, because I could not bear that we should all hurry away from Aline. He grumbled a good deal because I would not fix the same day as Esther's for our wedding, which most auspiciously was Valentine's Day, and after he had seen me in my bridesmaid's frock he was more unwilling to wait than ever. Still, as I put it to him, since we saw each other every day, and as he and the General were so busy over those mysterious preparations at Rose Hill, into which I was never allowed to pry, the time would pass quickly enough. And it really did. We were going to have husband-and-wife days all our life, and I wanted my share of "lovering" days like any other girl, and so I had them in spite of my grumbling lover.