"I shall have to help myself," said the lady in despair. And she sat down at the elaborate table in the bride's place and began to hack at the chicken. The gentlemen coming in at the moment roared again with laughter over the Jew's impatience; but it was not regarded with the same admiration by the rest of the guests. These little incidents, perhaps, helped to wile away the weary hours until it was time for the bridal pair to depart. Mrs. Dennistoun was so angry that it kept up a little fire, so to speak, in her heart when the light of her house was extinguished. Lady Mariamne, standing in the porch with a bag full of rice to throw, kept up the spirit of the mistress of the house, which otherwise might, perhaps, have failed her altogether at that inconceivable moment; for though she had been looking forward to it for months it was inconceivable when it came, as death is inconceivable. Elinor going away!--not on a visit, or to be back in a week, or a month, or a year--going away for ever! ending, as might be said, when she put her foot on the step of the carriage. Her mother stood by and looked on with that cruel conviction that overtakes all at the last. Up to this moment had it not seemed as if the course of affairs was unreal, as if something must happen to prevent it? Perhaps the world will end to-night, as the lover says in the "Last Ride." But now here was the end: nothing had happened, the world was swinging on in space in its old careless way, and Elinor was going--going away for ever and ever. Oh, to come back, perhaps--there was nothing against that--but never the same Elinor. The mother stood looking, with her hand over her eyes to shield them from the sun. Those eyes were quite dry, and she stood firm and upright by the carriage door. She was not "breaking down" or "giving way," as everybody feared. She was "bearing up," as everybody was relieved to see. And in a moment it was all over, and there was nothing before her eyes--no carriage, no Elinor. She was so dazed that she stood still, looking with that strange kind of smile for a full minute after there was nothing to smile at, only the vacant air and the prospect of the combe, coming in in a sickly haze which existed only in her eyes. But, by good luck, there was Lady Mariamne behind, and the fire of indignation giving a red flicker upon the desolate hearth. "I caught Phil on the nose," said that lady, in great triumph; "spoilt his beauty for him for to-day. But let's hope she won't mind. She thinks him beautiful, the little goose. Oh, my Puggy-wuggy, did that cruel Algy pull your little, dear tail, you darling? Come to oos own mammy, now those silly wedding people are away."