, and discomposed the bouquet and the veil? It seemed a great
danger and responsibility over when they arrived at last safely at the
church door. Lady Mariamne was just then arriving from the station. She
drew up before them in poor Mr. Tatham's carriage, keeping them back.
Harry Compton and Mr. Bolsover sprang to the carriage window to talk to
her, and there was a loud explosion of mirth and laughter in the midst
of the village people, and the children with their baskets of flowers
who were already gathered. Lady Mariamne's voice burst out so shrill
that it overmastered the church bells. "Here I am," she cried, "out in
the wilderness. And Algy has come with me to take care of me. And how
are you, dear boys; and how is poor Phil?" "Phil is all ready to be
turned off, with the halter round his neck," said Dick Bolsover; and
Harry Compton said, "Hurry up, hurry up, Jew, the bride is behind you,
waiting to get out." "She must wait, then," said Lady Mariamne, and
there came leisurely out of the carriage, first, her ladyship's
companion, by name, Algy, a tall person with an eye-glass, then a little
pug, which was carefully handed into his arms, and then lightly jumping
down to the ground, a little figure in black--in black of all things in
the world! a sight that curdled the blood of the village people, and
of Mrs. Hudson, who had walked across from the Rectory in a gown of
pigeon's-breast silk which scattered prismatic reflections as she
walked. In black! Mrs. Hudson bethought herself that she had a white
China crape shawl in her cupboard, and wondered if she could offer it to
conceal this ill omened gown. But if Lady Mariamne's dress was dark, she
herself was fair enough, with an endless fluff of light hair under her
little black lace bonnet. Her gloves were off, and her hands were white
and glistening with rings. "Give me my puggy darling," she said in her
loud, shrill tone. "I can go nowhere, can I, pet, without my little
pug!"

"A Jew and a pug, both in church. It is enough," said her brother, "to
get the poor parson into trouble with his bishop."

"Oh, the bishop's a great friend of mine," said the lady; "he will say
nothing to me, not if I put Pug in a surplice and make him lead the
choir." At this speech there was a great laugh of the assembled party,
which stood in the centre of the path, while Mr. Tatham's carriage edged
away, and the others made efforts to get forward. The noise of their
talk disturbed the curiou