Meanwhile the rites proceeded—the grave voice of the prelate was pronouncing the question— “George Charles, wilt thou have this woman to be thy wedded wife, to live together after God’s ordinance, in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honor and keep her in sickness and in health; and forsaking all others keep thee only unto her as long as ye both shall live?” The Bishop paused. And the bridegroom, fixing his eyes in unutterable love upon the downcast, beautiful face of his bride, in a deep, proud, tender voice responded—“I will.” Then the same question being put to her, she lifted her large eyes for an instant to his, and a glow of ineffable devotion suffused her beautiful, dark face as she too breathed the same vow. At the next question—“Who giveth this woman to be married to this man?”—Sir Parke Morelle stepped forward, took the hand of his daughter and placed it in that of the Bishop who transferred it to the hand of the bridegroom Lord Montressor received the cherished gift reverently, tenderly, with a deep inclination of his noble head, and a thrilling pressure of his clasping hand. Then followed the putting on of the ring, and then the prayers, the valedictory, and finally the nuptial benediction. The imposing solemnities were over. And friends gathered around with blessings; and then came in turn, the grave, earnest, tender, gay or gallant forms of congratulations—as the officiating ministers, the father, mother, bridemaids and bridemen pressed around with many kind wishes. This occasioned some considerable delay, in the midst of which the ominous party in the dark corner pew might have been observed to steal out and retire from the church. “Enough! enough!” at length smilingly said Sir Parke, sympathizing with the blushing embarrassment of the recipient of all these compliments, and taking her hand and placing it upon the arm of Lord Montressor, who drew it closely to his side, bowed around to his friends, and turned to lead his bride from the church—a performance more easily to be wished than accomplished; for the people were now pressing out of the pews, and the aisles were choked up with the crowd. Thus their progress from the altar to the door was an alternate step and pause—a sort of stop-march. And thus a delay of more than half an hour intervened between the moment of their receiving the nuptial benediction and that of their issuing from the church door. As the church, the yard was crowded with people of all classes, eager to see the bride pass. The whole party, including the officiating Bishop and clergymen, were expected to return to Hyde Hall to partake of the wedding breakfast; after which, Lord and Lady Montressor were to set out for his lordship’s castle in Dorsetshire, where they intended to pass the honeymoon.