There was the sound of a smart slap received upon his cheek by John Gurdon, from the sole of one of the Rector's very broad old slippers, a weapon held in Jane's hand at the moment; and now she stood arranging her ruffled plumes, and gazing very defiantly at the red-cheeked gentleman before her. "Well, that's pretty, certainly," he said, half in anger. "What are you doing with that shoe?" "It's to slap the other side of your face with, if you're saucy," cried Jane, "now then; and if you're not, it's to give to cook to throw after the carriage when we go, for luck, you know; and it's bad enough we need it, I'm sure, for I never saw such a set-out. There's young missus looking that stony and dreadful and never speaking, it quite frightens me. I wouldn't care if she would only cry; but she won't. But do tell me." "Well, you won't let me," said John Gurdon. "I didn't see it all; but them two nearly come to a fight, when Miss Lee jumped forward and held Mr Norton, and master carried her ladyship--you mustn't say `young missus' now--on to the Rectory. Regular row and confusion, you know. I do wish they'd be off. All the company's gone; and there's that beautiful breakfast going a-begging, and all because two people want the same woman. Just as if there weren't plenty of women in the world ready to jump at a husband! I never see such fools!" "Didn't you, Mr Greatgrand?" exclaimed Jane, firing up. "You're a nasty, unfeeling good-for-nothing--there! You're worse than that Mr Norton himself, shamming dead all these years on purpose to come back and break that poor dear angel's heart. There, it's no use; I hate you! that I do; and if I'm to sit in that rumble with you, hour after hour, I shall be ill, that I shall, so now. Keep your hands to yourself, for I have done with you quite. There, go and answer that bell." Jane flounced out of the kitchen, and John Gurdon, who was at the Rectory, to help wait at the wedding-breakfast, hurried into the hall, for there had come the loud ringing of a bell, succeeded by a clamour of voices. "I tell you I will see her!" exclaimed Philip Norton, angrily, as he stood in the hall, with Ada clinging to his arm. "Come in here, pray!--for Heaven's sake, come in here, Norton," cried the Rector, opening the drawing-room door. "This is not seemly--we are all grieved; but do not insult my child." "Insult, old man!" exclaimed Norton angrily, as he followed him into the room; and then he uttered a cry of rage, for, unwittingly, the Rector had asked him into the very room where, angry and mortified, his newly-wedded wife up-stairs with her mother, Sir Murray Gernon was striding up and down. In a moment the young men had each other by the throat, and stood glaring into each other's eyes, heedless that Ada and the Rector clung to first one and then the other, in a vain attempt to separate them. "Murray! for my child's sake!" exclaimed the Rector.