Then he could bear it no longer, and he was about to rush out and go in search of Stratton when he felt that it was too late, for already the admiral was at the door with the bride, and Edie and Miss Jerrold were at his side. He gave Edie one quick glance full of agony, and then in a hurried whisper to the admiral's sister: "Miss Jerrold, for goodness' sake ask Sir Mark to step into the vestry. Stratton has not come." Too late--too late! The organ was still giving forth its introductory strain; the two clergymen moved out of the vestry, and took their places; Sir Mark and Myra were close up, and the clerk came forward and signed to Guest to stand in the bridegroom's place. Before he could think, the admiral's lips were close to his ear, and the sharp whisper thrilled him as if it had been a roar. "Where's Stratton?" "I--he was to meet me--I--I'll go and see." The words were stammered forth in a whisper, and no one better than he felt how tame and paltry they sounded, while as, hat in hand, he hurried down the aisle, running the gauntlet of a couple of hundred eyes, it seemed as if they stung him, that the looks were more mocking than wondering, while, raging with annoyance, the few yards felt lengthened out into a mile. Through the baize doors, and under the portico, but no sign of the brougham with the pair of greys that was to bring the bridegroom. What to do; jump into a hansom and bid the man gallop to Benchers' Inn? It would take best part of an hour, and Stratton must be there directly. He would wait and see, even if everyone in the crowd was staring at him wonderingly, while the cold sweat stood out in big drops upon his face. "What is the meaning of this?" said a stern voice at his elbow, and Guest turned to face the admiral, whose florid countenance was mottled with white. A few words of explanation followed and then: "I'll take a hansom and gallop off to his chambers." "No," said Sir Mark in a low, hoarse voice. "An insult to my child! It is atrocious!" The old man turned and strode back, while, hardly knowing what he did, Guest followed him between the two rows of curious faces to where Myra stood, perfectly firm and self-contained, while Edie was trembling visibly, and clinging to Miss Jerrold's arm. As Sir Mark reached his daughter there was a loud whispering in the church, which was suppressed by several hushes! as one of the clergymen approached the wedding party, all present being eager to catch his words as the _contretemps_ was now grasped. "Will you step into the vestry for a few minutes? Some trifling mishap, perhaps--to the carriage or one of the horses. Perhaps an error about the time." "No, no," said the admiral sternly. "We will wait here, sir. No; Myra, take my arm; you shall not submit to this." She was deadly pale, but she made no movement to obey. "Not yet," she said in a low voice. "We must wait."