grandchild, were her bridesmaids.

If a tear gathered in her eye, it was a tear of joy; and there, at the
altar, amongst all those to whom she was henceforth to be united by the
ties of relationship, she inwardly vowed to devote herself to their
happiness, and to the fulfilment of the promises she was making to him
who would be one with her for ever.

The churchyard was full of spectators, as the proud and happy Owen led
his bride through it to the vicarage, and the general opinion was, that
there had never been married so handsome a couple in the church of
Llanfach.

The bells and the sunbeams rang out and shone out together, and all the
wedding-party forgot their private sorrows in the joy of the moment.

Even Netta, who had been taken to the vicarage for the occasion,
received them with one of her old bright smiles. She threw her arms
round Gladys, and called her 'sister.'

'_My_ sister,' she said more than once emphatically.

And if tears would, from time to time, spring into her eyes, as she
contrasted herself with Gladys, she brushed them away, and did her best
not to cast a shadow from her grief, on the brightness of a brother and
sister's joy. That little drawing-room at the vicarage contained as
pretty and pleasant a group as could well be seen, of which Owen and
Gladys formed the centre figures.

'Now, my good girl, let me give you a real kiss,' said honest Mr
Prothero, 'and tell you that I am proud of my daughter. Mother, what do
you say?'

'I say, thank God for all His mercies,' said quiet Mrs Prothero, shaking
Gladys' hand, which she seemed loath to part with.

If there is a great variety of character and feeling displayed in
shaking hands, there assuredly is, also, in kissing. Gladys experienced
it in that same little drawing-room, where she submitted her blushing
cheeks to all sorts of impressions.

Mr Prothero gave her three very hearty smacks, which resounded through
the room, and seemed to say at once, 'I am your father; his wife's
embrace was quieter, but more tender. Mrs Jonathan stooped majestically,
and imprinted her lips patronisingly on the forehead, as much as to say,
'I receive you into the family of the Payne Perrys, since you are
respectably connected.' Mrs Jones kissed her on the lips, and said, 'God
bless you, my dear.' Miss Gwynne, who hated kissing, and did not
consider herself one of the family, looked on, but took no active part.
Was that pride? she asked herself afterwards