d will be represented?" Uncle Prosper had asked. "Somebody
will come, I suppose," said Fanny. Then Uncle Prosper had sent down a
pretty jewelled ring, and said that he would remain in his room. His
health hardly permitted of his being present with advantage. So it was
decided that Miss Thoroughbung should come, and every one felt that she
would be the howling spirit,--if not at the ceremony, at the banquet
which would be given afterward.

Miss Thoroughbung was not the only obstacle, had the whole been known.
Young Soames, the son of the attorney with whom Mr. Prosper had found it
so evil a thing to have to deal, was to act as Joe's best man. Mr.
Prosper learned this, probably, from Matthew, but he never spoke of it
to the family.

It was a sad disgrace in his eyes that any Soames should have been so
far mixed up with the Prosper blood. Young Algy Soames was in himself a
very nice sort of young fellow, who liked a day's hunting when he could
be spared out of his father's office, and whose worst fault was that he
wore loud cravats. But he was an abomination to Mr. Prosper, who had
never seen him. As it was, he carried himself very mildly on this
occasion.

"It's a pity we're not to have two marriages at the same time," said Mr.
Crabtree, a clerical wag from the next parish. "Don't you think so, Mrs.
Annesley?" Mrs. Annesley was standing close by, as was also Miss
Thoroughbung, but she made no answer to the appeal. People who
understood anything knew that Mrs. Annesley would not be gratified by
such an allusion. But Mr. Crabtree was a man who understood nothing.

"The old birds never pair so readily as the young ones," said Miss
Thoroughbung.

"Old! Who talks of being old?" said Mr. Crabtree. "My friend Prosper is
quite a boy. There's a good time coming, and I hope you'll give way yet,
Miss Thoroughbung."

Then they were all marshalled on their way to church. It is quite out of
my power to describe the bride's dress, or that of the bride's maids.
They were the bride's sisters and two of Joe's sisters. An attempt had
been made to induce Florence Mountjoy to come down, but it had been
unsuccessful. Things had gone so far now at Cheltenham that Mrs.
Mountjoy had been driven to acknowledge that if Florence held to her
project for three years she should be allowed to marry Harry Annesley.
But she had accompanied this permission by many absurd restrictions.
Florence was not to see him, at any rate, during the first year;