ving up the
central aisle. There was the bride with her attendant bridesmaids, six
little maidens dressed in pure white, the bridegroom with his pages, six
counterparts dressed in the style of Charles I. Then Sir Godfrey and
Lady Raleigh, and then a tall, grizzled, soldierly-looking man, and
beside him a white-haired old lady, who might have stepped straight out
of one of Gainsborough's pictures.

As Carol caught sight of the man beside her, she leant half her body
over the front of the gallery, and stared with straining eyes down at
the slowly moving procession. Dora caught her by the arm and pulled her
back, saying, in a whisper:

"Don't do that; you might fall over."

Carol turned a white face and a pair of blankly staring eyes upon her,
caught her by the arm with one hand and pointing downwards with the
other, said in a whisper that seemed to rattle in her throat:

"See that man, there--that tall one with the old lady on his arm? That's
the man who did all the ruin! That's my father--and my mother was Vane's
mother, and that's his son, going to marry Vane's sweetheart. No, by
God, he shan't! I'll tell the whole church full, first."

She tore herself free from Dora's hold and struggled to her feet, her
lips were opened to utter words which would have instantly turned the
wedding into a tragedy; but the rush of thoughts which came surging into
her brain was too much for her. The swift revelation of an almost
unbelievable life-tragedy struck her like a lightning-stroke; she
uttered a few incoherent sounds, and then dropped back fainting into
Dora's arms.

"Another of life's little tragedies, I suppose," whispered a
well-dressed matron just behind her, to a companion at her side, "a
_petite maitresse_, no doubt. It's a curious thing; they always come to
see their lovers married."

CHAPTER XI.

The fainting of Carol in the gallery of the church and her being carried
out just before the commencement of the ceremony, was looked upon by
some of the more superstitious of the immediate spectators as a sign of
evil omen to the happiness of those who, in the phrase which is so often
only the echo of devils' laughter, were about "to be joined together in
holy matrimony."

Still, only a few had heard the broken words which the horror-stricken
girl had uttered before she fell down insensible, and those only thought
what the good lady behind her had said. To the rest of the congregation
it was merely an incident