e neighbourhood.

The man in the oriel went to the wedding; not as a guest, for at this
time he was but slightly acquainted with the parties; but mainly because
the church was close to his house; partly, too, for a reason which moved
many others to be spectators of the ceremony; a subconsciousness that,
though the couple might be happy in their experiences, there was
sufficient possibility of their being otherwise to colour the musings of
an onlooker with a pleasing pathos of conjecture. He could on occasion
do a pretty stroke of rhyming in those days, and he beguiled the time of
waiting by pencilling on a blank page of his prayer-book a few lines
which, though kept private then, may be given here:-

AT A HASTY WEDDING

(Triolet)

If hours be years the twain are blest,
For now they solace swift desire
By lifelong ties that tether zest
If hours be years. The twain are blest
Do eastern suns slope never west,
Nor pallid ashes follow fire.
If hours be years the twain are blest
For now they solace swift desire.

As if, however, to falsify all prophecies, the couple seemed to find in
marriage the secret of perpetuating the intoxication of a courtship
which, on Maumbry's side at least, had opened without serious intent.
During the winter following they were the most popular pair in and about
Casterbridge--nay in South Wessex itself. No smart dinner in the country
houses of the younger and gayer families within driving distance of the
borough was complete without their lively presence; Mrs. Maumbry was the
blithest of the whirling figures at the county ball; and when followed
that inevitable incident of garrison-town life, an amateur dramatic
entertainment, it was just the same. The acting was for the benefit of
such and such an excellent charity--nobody cared what, provided the play
were played--and both Captain Maumbry and his wife were in the piece,
having been in fact, by mutual consent, the originators of the
performance. And so with laughter, and thoughtlessness, and movement,
all went merrily. There was a little backwardness in the bill-paying of
the couple; but in justice to them it must be added that sooner or later
all owings were paid.

CHAPTER III

At the chapel-of-ease attended by the troops there arose above the edge
of the pulpit one Sunday an unknown face. This was the face of a new
curate. He placed upon the desk, not the familiar sermon book, b