bride must be the judge, Tibbie. You shall see whether she bids me
stay," said Colin, a little restored by his amusement at her anxiety for
his honour among the English. "Now desire Smith to meet me at the church
door, and ride at once from thence to Avoncester; and get your face
ready to give a cheerful welcome, Tibbie. Let her have that, at least,
whatever may come after."

Tibbie looked after him, and shook her head, understanding from her ain
laddie's pallid check, and resolute lip, nay, in the very sound of his
footfall, how sore was his trial, and with one-sided compassion she
muttered, "Telegrafted awa on his vera weddin' day. His Lordship'll be
the death o' them baith before he's done."

As it was in every way desirable that the wedding should be unexpected
by Avonmonth in general, it was to take place at the close of the
ordinary morning service, and Ermine in her usual seat within the
vestry, was screened from knowing how late was Colin's entrance, or
seeing the determined composure that would to her eyes have betrayed
how much shaken he was. He was completely himself again by the time the
congregation dispersed, leaving only Grace Curtis, Lady Temple, and the
little best man, Conrade, a goodly sight in his grey suit and scarlet
hose. Then came the slow movement from the vestry, the only really
bridal-looking figure being Rose in white muslin and white ribbons;
walking timidly and somewhat in awe beside her younger aunt; while
her father upheld and guided the elder. Both were in quiet, soft, dark
dresses, and straw bonnets, but over hers Ermine wore the small though
exquisite Brussels lace veil that had first appeared at her mother's
wedding; and thankful joy and peaceful awe looked so lovely on her
noble brow, deep, soft dark eyes, and the more finely moulded, because
somewhat worn, features; and so beauteously deepened was the carnation
on her cheek, that Mr. Mitchell ever after maintained that he had never
married any one to compare with that thirty-three years' old bride upon
crutches, and, as he reported to his wife, in no dress at all.

Her brother, who supported her all the time she stood, was infinitely
more nervous than she was. Her native grace and dignity, and absence
of all false shame entirely covered her helplessness, and in her
earnestness, she had no room for confusion; her only quivering of voice
was caught for one moment from the tremulous intensity of feeling that
Colin Keith could not wh