as blue as the great plain of the sea; and all the
beautiful green world was throbbing with the upspringing life of the
flowers. It was just like any other wedding, but for one little
incident. When the bride came out into the bewildering glare of the
sun, she vaguely knew that the path through the churchyard was lined
on both sides with children. Now, she was rather well known to the
children about, and they had come in a great number; and when she
passed down between them it appeared that the little folks had brought
vast heaps of primroses and violets in their aprons and in tiny
baskets, and they strewed her path with these flowers of the new
spring. Well, she burst into tears at this, and hastily leaving her
husband's arm for a moment, she caught up one of the least of the
children--a small, golden-haired girl of four--and kissed her. Then
she turned to her husband again, and was glad that he led her down to
the gale, for her eyes were so blinded with tears that she could not
see her way.

Nor did anything very remarkable occur at the wedding-breakfast. But
there was a garrulous old lady there with bright pink cheeks and
silvery hair; and she did not cease to prattle to the clergyman who
had officiated in the church, and who was seated next her. "Indeed,
Mr. Trewhella," she said confidentially, "I always said this is what
would come of it. Never any one of those Trelyons set his heart on a
girl but he got her; and what was the use of friends or relatives
fighting against it? Nay, I don't think there's any cause of
complaint--not I! She's a modest, nice, ladylike girl: she is indeed,
although she isn't so handsome as her sister. Dear, dear me! look at
that girl now! Won't she be a prize for some man? I declare I haven't
seen so handsome a girl for many a day. And, as I tell you, Mr.
Trewhella, it's no use trying to prevent it: if one of the Trelyons
falls in love with a girl, the girl's done for: she may as well give
in."

"If I may say so," observed the old clergyman, with a sly gallantry,
"you do not give the gentlemen of your family credit for the most
remarkable feature of their marriage connections. They seem to have
had always a very good idea of making an excellent choice."

The old lady was vastly pleased. "Ah, well," she said, with a shrewd
smile, "there were two or three who thought George Trelyon--that was
this young man's grandfather, you know--lucky enough, if one might
judge by the noise they made.