Then the wedding-march was played and the bridal party came down the stairs. Rose was on the arm of the lawyer who had acted as her trustee. He was to give her away. The task had been an impossible one for Henry to undertake, although he had been the first one thought of by Rose. Henry had told Meeks, and the two had chuckled together over it. "The idea of a man from a shoe-shop giving away a bride in real lace at a swell wedding," said Henry. "She was the right sort to ask you, though," said Meeks. "Bless her little heart," said Henry, "she wouldn't care if Uncle Henry smelled strong enough of leather to choke out the smell of the flowers. But I ain't going to make a spectacle of myself at my time of life. If I stand that dress-suit I shall do well. Sylvia is going to wear black lace with a tail to it. I know somebody will step on it." Sylvia, in her black lace, came down the stairs in the wake of the bridal party. She did not seem to see her husband as she passed him. "By Jove!" said the lawyer, in a whisper. "What does ail her, Henry? She looks as if she was going to jump at something." Henry did not answer. He made his way as quickly as possible after Sylvia, and Sidney kept with him. Horace and Rose, in her bridal white, stood before the clergyman. The music had ceased. The clergyman opened his mouth to begin the wedding-service, when Sylvia interrupted him. She pushed herself like a wedge of spiritual intent past the bridal pair and the bridesmaids and best man, and stood beside the clergyman. He was a small, blond man, naturally nervous, and he fairly trembled when Sylvia put her hand on his arm and spoke. "I have something to say," said she, in a thin, strained voice. "You wait." The clergyman looked aghast at her. People pressed forward, craning their necks to hear more distinctly. Some tittered from nervousness. Henry made his way to his wife's side, but she pushed him from her. "No," she said. "Stand back, Henry, and listen with the others. You had nothing to do with it. You ain't concerned in it." Then she addressed the assembly. "This man, my husband," she said, "has known nothing of it. I want you all to understand that before I begin." Sylvia fumbled in the folds of her black lace skirt, while the people waited. She produced a roll of paper and held it up before them. Then she began her speech.